


The Shadow At My Window

by Zombiecat



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Angel Castiel, Angst, Baby Sam, Bottom Dean Winchester, Childhood, First Kiss, Homophobia, M/M, Masturbation, Minor Character Death, Oil kink, Slow Burn, Top Castiel, Torture, Wing Kink, teenage dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-18
Updated: 2014-05-21
Packaged: 2017-12-26 22:56:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 27
Words: 141,620
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/971269
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zombiecat/pseuds/Zombiecat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As a fledgling angel, Castiel is not allowed to interact with humanity. He should be strictly observing and concentrating on learning to be a warrior of Heaven. Even so, he cannot seem to stop himself from visiting the human boy that leaves his window open at night. At first, it's only to get a glimpse of their world.. but all that changes the night he saves the boy's life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Falling

Dean Winchester is 12 years old the first time he sees the shadow.

It’s his fourth night in his new home with his mom, dad, and baby brother, Sam. Their dad had abruptly uprooted them to move out into the middle of No-wheres-ville, Kansas. If his parents had a reason, they weren’t telling their son about it. Apparently, Dean was just expected to shrug off childhood friends, the only school he’d ever gone to and the home he grew up in.. all to end up at Auntie Em's. He spitefully wished for a tornado to come blow them away.

Dean throws down a box of comics, which just knocks over another heavier box that was balanced precariously on a table. A wail starts from below and he rolls his eyes.

“Dean! You woke Sam! Knock off your pouting and come down to dinner!” his dad barks up the stairs at him.

His mother had said he could pick out his room, probably out of guilt. Feeling withdrawn and sulky, he immediately chose the 3rd floor bedroom. It left him by himself with his parents on the second floor with Sam. Kitchen, Dining Room, and Living Room on the bottom floor.

Petulantly, Dean decides to take his time getting to dinner. He evaluates the walls, mentally planning out what posters he wants to hang. He figured he’d move the dresser, with the Sega and TV on top, so it was facing the end of his bed. The door would be to the right of his bed and the huge almost floor to ceiling window to his left. Dean walks across the room to the simple wooden window bench seat. He tugs at the lip and opens it to reveal an empty compartment. Closing it, he steps up on it to reach the latch. Feet back on the floor, he pulls at the two panes of glass divided into squares by a thick oak frame. They swing inward and he can’t help being a little impressed by the view. 

Their backyard at the moment is just a large expanse of uncut grass that hits a line of trees. From here, it seems to be the edge of woods that go on for as far as he can see. The tops of trees were quiet and oddly soothing out in the black night. Without the light pollution from city lights he’d become accustomed to, the stars pop out everywhere. More than he’d ever seen. He idly watches a breeze ruffle and shake leaves on trembling branches, for a moment forgetting all his self-righteous anger.

“Dean! Now!”

“Yeah! Alright!” He yells back and there went the calm.

Turning away, he briskly walks towards the door, knowing despite his anger that he didn’t want his dad to come get him.

He reaches for the handle, but pauses when a shadow darkens the door in front of him, covering where his hand is held out. Gasping, he quickly turns back to the open window.

But theres nothing but moonlight flooding in. He cautiously takes a few steps back towards it.

“Dean!!”

Dammit. He hesitates only a second longer, before finally shaking his head and yanking open the door to run down the stairs.

+++ +++ +++ +++ +++ +++ +++ +++ +++

Time passes and the Winchesters settle in. Dean has a birthday that feels a little empty without his friends but they sing the song and he blows out candles on a cake anyway. Sam starts teething and he’s very glad he chose to be a whole floor away from the constant melt-downs. And though she never said anything, he could tell his mom had taken the move hard at first as well.. but she starts to perk up after a while too. He can hear her singing downstairs and it makes him smile. She bakes pies in the afternoons every once and a while, half-humming a Beatles song when he comes in from school. He even makes a few tentative friendships with kids from his new school.

One day after school, while he’s trying to make his math homework penetrate his brain, his father comes in from work with an unfamiliar man in tow.

“Dean, come here. I want you to meet someone.”

He gets up from the kitchen table and walks over to them. 

“This is your Uncle Bobby.” He gestures to an older guy with a brown beard and mustache combo that creeps up the sides of his jaw. He’s wearing an old trucker hat, open flannel over a grey shirt, jeans and maybe an extra twenty pounds around his middle. 

Dean frowns, knowing he didn’t have an Uncle Bobby but stuck out his hand like he knows his dad was waiting for him to do. 

“You got your mama’s looks, boy. Thank the Lord.” Bobby smiles, shaking his hand firmly.

When he just stares his dad says, “Dean, what do you say?”

“Uh, nice to meet ‘cha.”

Feeling uncomfortable and not knowing what else he was supposed to say to this guy he asks, “Um, can I be excused?”

“Dean!”

“Aw, let the boy go.” Bobby waves him off, smacking his dad’s arm with the back of his hand.

His dad gives him a look but just says, “Alright, go. I’ll get you a beer, Bobby.”

“I wouldn’t turn one down.”

Dean turns to run up the stairs but awkwardly waves to Bobby on his way who returns it with an upturning of his mustache. 

As the two men move towards the kitchen, Dean remembers he forgot his math book. He hesitates, and when he hears them begin talking, sits down to wait on the stairs. Also, if Deans honest he's a little curious how the hell his dad knows this guy. 

“How’s Ellen holdin’ up?” He hears the clink of a beer bottle cap hitting the sink.

“Well she’s, ya know John.. it’ll take time.”

His dad sighs deeply.

“It hit her hard but she’s a tough woman. And she has Jo.”

“They settling in okay?”

Their voices descend as they walk out into the backyard. “Yeah, they’re up at a place in my neck of the..”

When the coast is clear, Dean walks out to grab his book as quickly as possible and doesn’t look back.

That night, he’s sitting at the edge of his bed, engrossed in mashing buttons on his Sega controller and gritting his teeth as Sonic navigates a loop de loop.. when he abruptly falls of a cliff and dies.

“Dammit!”

He throws the control across the room and closes his eyes to calm down but doesn’t miss a small noise that sounds like a laugh. Dean turns just quick enough to see the long shadow of a figure disappear from the outside the window. 

He yells out, frozen to the spot.

Seconds later, his dad storms into the room, searching the corners.

“What?! What is it?”

Dean points at the window. “Somebody was out there!”

He gets up and follows his dad who looks determined and a little scary. Poking his head out the window, he turns his head up, to the sides, then finally down. 

Standing behind him, Dean sees a wicked-looking blade in his hand before he slips it out of sight.

“There’s nothing out there. Jesus, Dean, you scared the hell outta me.”

“No I saw.. something. Freaking someone!”

“Alright, that’s enough. Turn off the videogame and get to bed.”

“Dad! I know-” 

“Now, Dean! Don’t you think you’re a little old for this kinda stuff?”

The injustice of not being believed is immediately covered with the sting of his dad’s censure. He clenches his jaw and swallows the rest of whatever he was going to say.

Sighing, his dad ruffles his hair but Dean just shakes it off, jerking his head to the side.

“Night, Son. Get some sleep.”

His dad waits.

“Yes, sir.” He bites out coldly.

Frowning, his dad finally leaves him. Dean stands there balling his fists for a whole minute before stomping to the open window. He closes it tight and gets up on the windowseat to latch it. Flopping down on his bed, he’s too embarrassed and angry over his dad’s implication that he had a little kid freakout to worry about whatever made him cry out earlier.

It’s several months before the memory fades enough for him to be comfortable leaving the window open again.

+++ +++ +++ +++ +++ +++ +++ +++ +++

One September day, when the stifling heat is descending into sweet breezes of Autumn, Dean cracks the window. A few days later and he’s sleeping with moonlight flooding in once more. 

It’s a Friday and he’s pretty sure there’s some of his mom’s apple pie left in the fridge. He tosses his Batman comic at the end of the bed and goes in search. He’s almost to the bottom when he grips the banister to stop his momentum on the third to last step. 

His dad has his mom close and they’re swaying back and forth in the kitchen. It’s rare to get a glimpse of this softer side of John Winchester. He always seemed so unapproachable. Hard and strict to his mother’s softness. John was ex-military and you could see it from his rigid posture to how he uniformly cuts his eggs to the no nonsense way he demands Dean keep his room. Dean’s made his own bed since he was 5, every morning. 

Seeing his parents like this.. it’s nice. There’s no music but his dad is humming low. Smiling, despite the loss of his chance for pie, Dean quietly goes back up to his room. 

Just as he opens his bedroom door, something moves across his vision before he can look up. He freezes. Staring at the window, he squeezes the doorknob until his hand is numb. Glancing at the stairs, he sucks in a breath and decides to man up. 

Dean strides to the window without hesitation until his shins stop at the wooden bench. Nothing moves. He makes himself climb up onto the wide frame edge and holding tight, ducks his head out to peer outside into the night. Same as always. Still trees. Insects chirping. Plastic baby toys and his bike left on its side abandoned in the backyard. There’s a noise to his right that draws his attention. Shifting his foot and tightening his deathgrip, he leans forward to try and see past the darkness along the wall of his house. He stares.. and stares.. almost seeing something at the corner over where the wall turns to the next side of the house. He focuses, squinting his eyes… is that… can’t be… an arm?

Then it moves.

Dean jerks his head back so fast; he knocks it hard on the window frame behind him.

Then with an awful drop in his stomach like you get when you miss a step.. he’s falling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello darlings! This is my first attempt at a slower burn. It's inspired by Peter Pan. In no way will this be a shot for shot version of that story but aspects of it will be popping up from time to time. Let me know you love me and are reading! Explicit for later chapters because doesn't it always come down to gay love? The best things do. (o:`,


	2. Crying

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He leaves the window open.

A sound... like a rush of feathers.. it reminds him of an old barn owl he once saw..

Dean wakes up with a violent start, gasping. He pats his chest and head, feeling for injuries until he realizes he’s.. fine. His neck isn’t snapped. His legs and back aren’t broken. Confused, he looks around to see he’s also in bed, lying on top of the covers. What the actual hell?

He turns to frown at the window that’s almost closed with only a few inches of moonlight peeking through.

He did _not_ dream that shit. But he would have been dead or at least crippled from a 3rd story fall. Getting up, he walks slowly to the window. Opening just one of them, he sits down on the bench and rests his elbows on the sill. Dean rubs his eyes before closing them and tries to remember. 

He banged his head... 

Touching the back of his skull, he winces when he finds a sore spot. Then he shivers at the feeling of going over the side. He was plunging downward and must have blacked out or fainted. But.. there’s a niggling memory just at the edge of his graying recollection. He remembers blue. An unnatural, bright as hell blue but he doesn’t know why. Then there’s nothing.

Well he amends, he does recall one other thing. Right before he fell.. he saw an arm. Impossibly high up and crazy but he’d seen it.

He stays there quietly until his head is nodding and finally pushes off the windowseat. He feels a little ridiculous and would be ready to think he dreamed the whole impossible thing, if it wasn’t for his throbbing head. 

Staring out into the night, Dean whispers, “Thanks.” 

He walks back to his bed but leaves the window open.

+++ +++ +++ +++ +++ +++ +++ +++

Since that night, Dean doesn’t worry about his shadow so much anymore. Sometimes he wakes up with the hanging feeling that someone’s just out of his sights but he doesn’t worry about it as he did. He lets himself fall back asleep, knowing nothing will be there if he bothers to get up.

At school, he’s distracted, drawing pictures of owls and gargoyles with blue pens and scrunching his eyes at it like he’s trying to figure out a puzzle. He starts to leave things for his mystery savior on the window ledge at night. Apples, Kit Kats, Cheetos.. nothing is ever touched. Once he thought it took some blueberry pie he left out but it turned out his mom had cleaned it up thinking he’d forgotten it. Maybe it didn’t eat. Maybe it wasn’t real. Maybe he was a dumbass.

One Saturday, when his mom is driving him and Sammy back from a trip to the mall, they stop at McDonald’s. She asks what he wants and he gives his standard Double Cheeseburger with Fries and a Coke. Right as she’s about to drive off, he yells, “Wait!” The car rocks with her mashing the brake. “Can I have two cheeseburgers? I want one for later.”

She gives him a look over her shoulder. 

“C’mon. Please, mom?” 

“Alright, honey. But you’re eating twice as many green beans tomorrow,” she says, smiling sweetly. Groaning dramatically, he sits back in his seat and flicks Sam’s hanging baby toy so it moos.

A few hours later, everyone’s in bed and the house is quiet. Dean unwraps the burger, still warm from when he nuked it in the microwave fifteen minutes ago, and places it dead center of the window sill. Walking backwards, he gets into bed and after a while of staring at the ceiling, falls asleep.

When the sun comes up and annoying birds start chirping, Dean opens his eyes. He blinks and yawns until he remembers and glances at the window. Bouncing out of bed, he scrambles to the sill and is shocked and thrilled to see.. its gone! After a second, he frowns, ducking his head out the window to check if maybe it fell or something. Rationally, he allows that a bird could have taken it or.. where was the wrapper? How will he know if it was actually taken? He didn’t know what he was expecting but it felt less fulfilling that he thought.

His mom shouts up at him that breakfast is ready. He throws on jeans and a tshirt, barely paying attention to what he’s doing. When he grabs his watch off the nightstand, he freezes when he sees something drop on the floor. He bends to pick it up. There next to his bed is the McDonald’s wrapper, perfectly folded into a neat square.

+++ +++ +++ +++ +++ +++ +++

At school that week, Dean couldn’t concentrate if you paid him in pie. It’s real. It has to be. It was in his room, standing over him. That thought blows his mind, as well as makes him uneasy. What should he do now? It saved him and took his offering.. should he keep trying to make contact? This was crazy.

“Wow, creepy bat-guy doodles. Are you hitting your teenage emo phase?” Charlie says from over his shoulder.

“Huh?” He looks back to her smiling face. She gestures at the paper he’d been idly drawing on while they waited for class to start.

“Oh.” Dean quickly tucks the paper away. “Nah, just bored.”

“Well, if you’re going for Batman try less feathers, more cape and nifty utility belt.”

He frowns. He hadn’t drawn any feathers.. had he? But Charlie’s already moved on to bickering with some girl about the virtues of original Star Trek vs Next Generation. The bell rings.

That evening, he’s chasing Sam around the house as he squeals in delight. Making exaggerated growling noises, Sam turns and pretends to be the monster this time. Dean puts on his best falsetto and fake screams as the chubby-legged toddler stomps heavily towards him.

When Mary comes to scoop him up for a bath, Sam sniffles and is very close to having a full on melt down. 

“C’mon baby, bath time. All good little monsters have to get clean.” His mom says as he squirms in her arms.

“No! Mon-ter Dean! Mon-ter Sam!” He pouts, fighting to get loose.

Dean ruffles his hair. “Hey, don’t worry buddy, we can play monsters tomorrow. You can be Godzilla and I’ll be King Kong, kay?”

Sam stops struggling but still sticks out his bottom lip. “Sam Kong.”

“Yeah alright, Sammy, you can be Kong. You’re hairy enough.” He tugs on a lock of the brown mop his parents let grow out.

Sam giggles and fights with Dean’s hand for a few seconds. 

His mom mouths “Thank you.” And Deans about to run up to his room when his mom says, “Hey can you tell your father I want to talk to him? I think he’s outside somewhere.”

“Sure.”

She carries Sam upstairs and Dean walks through the kitchen out into the backyard. It’s dusk and all the insects are humming and singing. His dad isn’t anywhere within sight. He’s about to turn back inside when he sees the storm cellar to his left with the padlock off. It’s always kept locked since as long as they’ve lived there. His dad said the stairs had rotten wood and were unsafe. 

He looks around again. Maybe he’s down there? 

Dean pulls open the heavy wooden door on the ground and sees a small light far back out of sight. “Hey Dad?”

Nothing.

Looking around again, he calls down again and waits. Well he couldn’t not go down there now. Besides he was told to find his dad, Dean reasons.. knowing he wasn’t down there before he even placed his weight carefully on the first step. 

When he got to the bottom, his eyes widen at several shelves with all kinds of things from books to ugly figurines. Coming close to one, he sees bottles of different herbs, water, powders, one that looked like blood? Was his dad in some kind of cult or something?

“Salt?” He holds up a canister of Morton’s Salt.

Putting it down precisely where he found it, he slowly walks towards a cabinet. Opening it, Dean’s mouth falls open to see a collection of different types of weapons from shotguns, hand guns, machetes, a freaking sword. He knew his dad hunted deer and stuff but what the hell.. Was he a crazy weapons collector or what?

Dean grabs a sawed off shotgun from a hook, entranced. He stretches out his arm to point it at the wall, squinting his eyes over it like he’s aiming and feeling a little badass. He lowers it, pointing it at the floor and reaches for a short blade he thinks is called a Bowie.

Smiling, he whirls around a few times like a ninja, so caught up he doesn’t hear footsteps on the stairs.

“Dean!”

He almost jumps out of his skin and barely notices the slice he cut in his upper leg. 

“Why the fuck..Do you not have a goddamn braincell in that head of yours? You could have..” He grabs Dean by the scruff of his neck, yanking the gun then knife handle out of his hands roughly. “Don’t you ever come down here! You hear me, boy?” He flings Dean towards the stairs but he trips and lands hard against the first step. Dean cries out at the pain from his cut leg and his side at banging against unforgiving wood. 

Breathing hard, John closes his eyes and finally walks towards him with palms out. “Look, son..”

He quickly scrambles to his feet and stomps up the stairs. His dad calls after him but he doesn’t stop, doesn’t hear anything but the blood rushing in his ears. 

Dean doesn’t remember the trip but he’s suddenly sitting on the floor next to bed on the side closest the window. He wishes he could stop but angry tears burn in his eyes, dripping down his cheeks. He fists his fingers in his own hair out of rage and hurt and confusion. He rubs his eyes over and over with the heels of his palms and laughs once at how pathetic he’s being. The slice in his leg is stinging, his side is throbbing, he wants to scream but it would only bring his mom. Finally, he folds his arms over his bent knees and buries his face in them sniffing jerkily until he can’t anymore. 

He’s not sure how much time passes, but sleep begins to drag him under.

The wood of his floor creeks from the weight of steps coming towards him. His fucking dad coming to either apologize or yell at him some more. 

“Leave me alone!” he huffs with venom but his dad doesn’t move. Dean lifts his head out of his arms to yell up at him to go away.

Then he stops and just stares..

There, only a few feet away from him, is a boy maybe a few years older than him. Mouth a little open, Dean takes in the sleeveless black shirt stretched tight over his muscled torso, silver cuff around his bicep with weird symbols, dark brown pants that look leather and laced up with a black cord, bare feet.

“What.. who the hell are you? What are you even doing here?” He asks dumbly, taken back by the surreal appearance of an odd-looking stranger in his room. 3 stories up.

The boy tilts his head. “Why are you crying?” he says in a voice far too deep for his years.

“What? I wasn’t crying. I was just.. angry.” Dean rubs his face to wipe away any remaining wetness. “Who are you?” Pushing to his feet, he winces at his leg and pats at his pant leg, damp with blood.

The guy takes a step forward. Deans already trapped against the wall so when a hand is reaching towards him, he grabs the wrist on reflex. Dean’s about to yell out but then the light hits his eyes just right. 

Blue.. so freaking blue, practically sparkling.. With a flash of recognition, Dean realizes he’s staring at the same absurdly bright blue from the night he fell. He’s seen blue eyes plenty but he’s only seen that unearthly shade one other time in his life. Right before he was pretty sure he was about to die.

“You.”

Shocked, he lets the hand move closer, wrist still in his tight grip, until two fingers touch his temple. Within a blink, the pain in his ribs subsides and his leg stops hurting.

After a minute of intense staring, Dean self-consciously lets go of the arm and it’s taken back.

“It was you, right? I didn’t imagine it? You saved me..” He swallows, feeling a bit lost. “Didn’t you?”

He gives a small smile but doesn’t answer.

It’s making Dean nervous, he’s only spoken once and that was to ask about him crying of all things.

“What are you… some kind of mutant? Nightcrawler or.. or.. I mean, what the hell?” He puffs out his breath, trying to wrap his head around this insanity. They evaluate each other from too close for Dean’s comfort. Not a gargoyle or a bird man or something. Dean wearily watches him for signs of aggression but the boy seems happy to just stand there quietly, flicking his gaze back at the open window every once in a while.

He looks.. wild. With eyes that unnatural color that he was sure he’d dreamt or altered. Dark brown hair sticking up and barefoot. Out of place in his bedroom like a piece of nature.. a wild creature that just wandered in. He gets the ridiculous impulse to shoo him away like a crow that flew in or something.

Maybe he should go find his dad. If this was the thing.. the person that had been creeping outside his window for so long, shouldn’t he tell someone? No wait, fuck his dad. He clenches his jaw and the guy in front of him frowns and takes a step backwards.

“No! Wait!” He brings up his hands to try and show he doesn’t mean any harm. The boy hesitates but then they both turn towards his door when the sound of someone coming up the stairs can be heard.

He looks back at Dean for a few seconds more before turning and running towards the window. Not breaking stride, he nimbly bounces up the windowseat and pushes off the sill with the next step, diving out the window gracefully.

Dean runs after him and braces his arms on the window frame, but he’s gone. 

He’s still searching the sky when his dad opens the door behind him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you're enjoying it so far. Thanks for any feedback, my dear readers.


	3. Castiel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Hi Cas. I’m Dean.” He sticks out his hand to the angel.

He doesn’t turn around when he hears his dad enter the room. 

“Dean.”

His shoulders hunch and when he drops his head a little, he sees a bloody foot print on the sill. The.. whatever he was, must have stepped in the trickle of Dean’s blood on the floor by the bed. Realizing he also doesn’t have a explanation for a bloody pant leg with no wound, he turns to his side so he’s half-facing his dad and blocking the window. 

“What?” Dean still can’t quite meet his eyes without a glare so he stares at the wood right in front of his father’s boots.

“Dean..” He hears him sigh and sees boots make a few steps closer. “Look, I’m sorry I shoved you. That.. that wasn’t right but Son, what you saw.. that stuff’s not for you. Hey! Look at me when I’m talkin’ to you.” Frustration is hardening his tone.

Dean locks his jaw and flicks his eyes up hard.

“Forget about it. You hear me?” Dean doesn’t look away and finally John slumps a little. “But.. maybe I could take you out shooting.”

Dean expression doesn’t soften yet. “You mean it?” 

“Yeah, why not. You’re fourteen.. almost 15, practically a man. It’d be good for you. Just.. don’t tell your mother.”

“When?” His father had a habit of making promises he was too busy later to keep.

“Well, ya know, soon.”

He turns back to the window. “Okay, whatever.” 

“Dean..”

“Night, Dad.” He says, hoping he’ll walk away without getting any closer. His dad wasn’t much for the touchy-feely talks and he doubted he’d push for more.

After a few tense seconds, he hears, “Night, Son.”

When the door clicks softly behind him, Dean immediately looks around for something to clean up the blood with. He unzips his ruined pants and looks up out at the night. Thinking better on it, he quickly closes window first.

+++ +++ +++ +++ +++ +++ +++ +++ +++ +++ +++

The next day, Dean drifts his way through classes, too preoccupied with thoughts of impossible flying mutants and his dad’s odd collection down in their cellar. Despite himself, he is kinda looking forward to learning to fire a gun. If it happens. Which it probably won’t. His head nods during Econ class. Will He come back tonight? Does he want him to? What does it look like when he flies? Or does he jump long distances? Or crawl up the wall all fast and creepy like a lizard? Dean shivers a little at that thought. It was a kinda embarrassing to think about.. that this intense guy was what had been outside his window for so long. Even so, he had to know more about him. Dean had too many questions. He drifts between daydreaming about the possibilities and sleeping through what classes he’s able to without getting caught.

Dean tries not to be too disappointed when his dad is out working till late again that evening. It figures, he knew better than to depend on him. John had been working at Bobby’s garage and salvage yard doing repair work on classic cars. His dad was the only mechanic he knew that worked past 8 at night. Whatever. He tries to tell himself he wasn’t expecting much. Besides, he has an appointment with a monster baby anyway. 

That night in front of his window he waits.. and waits. Way past midnight. The trees are still and no sound of feathers can be heard. No shadow preceding a figure appears. He waits until light peeks over the horizon and he has to start getting ready for school. 

All the next week, he’s a zombie, staying up to wait but the flying boy with the crazy blue eyes and wild looks never comes. Maybe he satisfied his curiosity with their short meeting. Dean wishes he hadn’t seen him sniffling like a baby. Of all the times for him finally to wanna reach out.. and he’d just looked so.. Dean shakes his head. Well whatever. Not like he needed whatever the fuck he’d been anyway.

That weekend, Dean’s surprised when his dad tells his mom they’re going out bowling. She seems taken back but happy. 

“Yep, some one-on-one time with his old man would be good for him.” He claps his back a few times.

“Alright, have fun you two. Can you grab some milk on your way back for Sam?”

“Yep. Be back in time for potroast.” John says, kissing his mother quick.

Walking towards the car, his dad tells him to get in and goes around the back of the trunk for a few minutes. When gets behind the wheel, John takes a minute to find a classic rock station. When “Highway to Hell” blares out, he turns up the dial before throwing his hand over the seat and backing out of their yard. 

After driving for about twenty minutes just listening to music with the windows rolled down, they pull off at a dense collection of woods Dean’s never been to before. Turning off a dirt road, they drive a ways longer. Obviously, they weren’t going bowling. When his dad stops the car, he immediately walks towards the back again. Dean gets out and comes around in time to see his dad dropping a hatch and covering it with a thin rug so it looks like the bottom of the trunk he’s always seen. Out on top are a couple empty cereal boxes, a gallon can of tomato sauce, a gun and a clip he’s feeding bullets into.

“You ready for this, Dean?”

“Yes, Sir.” Dean’s eyes are big, watching closely. His dad pockets a handful of extra bullets in his worn leather jacket and hands Dean the can and boxes before closing the lid. 

He follows his dad until they reach a dilapidated old fence that had a few posts still standing. Taking the contents of Dean’s arms, he spreads the makeshift targets along a plank of weather-beaten wood. He turns and walks about 35 feet away with Dean in tow. After showing him how to hold the gun (a .22 Glock he’s told) properly and going over the safety basics, his dad stands behind him and flips off the safety over his shoulder.

“Okay, try and hit something.” 

Breathing out like his dad showed him, he squeezes the trigger and is surprised by how his arms buck a little.

“Good. Now, again.”

For the next half hour he doesn’t hit anything but keeps listening as his dad gives him tips or has him pause to shift one way or another. He has Dean reload the clip and start again. After another half hour, he finally nicks the top flap of one of the cereal boxes. 

“Hey, not bad. Aim just to the left of where you were.”

Dean stays still and concentrates, willing his arms steady and pulls the trigger. John watches, sipping from a flask he pulled out about ten minutes previous.  
The cereal box up ends with the next shot.

“Ha! That’s my boy! You’re a natural.” He smacks him on the back and Dean flushes with the praise. 

After taking another swallow, John hands it to Dean.

Dean smiles kinda cautious and tries to act casual as he brings it at his lips. It burns and he only coughs once.

His dad nods and takes it back. “You did real good today, Dean.” Looking at the fence, he seems lost for a moment until he says, “Ya know, my dad taught me how to shoot too.”

“Yeah?”

John shakes his head and seems harder when he takes the gun from Dean, turning to walk back towards the car without another word. Dean catches up to walk beside him and jumps when after a minute his dad turns back to empty the clip in the tomato can. It leaks red fluid from numerous holes. 

“Whoa.” He’s not sure how far away they are but it seems way further than Dean could imagine hitting something.

“Come on, we still need to grab milk for your mom.”

In bed that night, Dean’s caught up in the thoughts of the day.. His dad clapping him on the shoulder and telling him “not bad.” Letting him have few stolen gulps of liquor. He felt the warmth of his dad pride and the awe at the crazy shots he made.

For the first time that week, Dean falls asleep easily.

He’s not sure what woke him up but he startles into consciousness. Blinking a few times, he sits up on his elbows and sees… Him.. perched on the footboard of his bed, just like the gargoyle Dean once imagined he might have been. He’s balanced perfectly on bent legs with arms folded on top of his knees.

“Jesus, I thought maybe I dreamed you up or something.” He says quietly so as not to wake anyone.

The boy’s eyebrows knit as his head tilts with curiosity. “You dream about me?”

Dean feels his face flush and sits up against the headboard. “Don’t be stupid. I meant.. you disappeared and I didn’t know if you’d come back.”

“I wasn’t going to.”

They’re silent for a minute before Dean can’t stand not to ask any longer.

“What the hell are you, man?”

He’s quite so long Dean doesn’t think he’s going to answer, but then he hears two words that rearrange his world.

“An angel.”

Dean just stares, not knowing what to say to that. When nothing more is forthcoming, he finally parrots, “An angel.”

“Yes.”

“No, you’re not. You’re.. you’re..” he gestures at him helplessly. “You’re like a few years older than me. What seventeen? Eighteen? And angels have like togas and harps and halos and crap..”

He smiles condescendingly through Dean’s rant. “Do they?”

“Yeah! And they sure as shit don’t eat burgers and hang outside guy’s windows..” Dean scoffs, “You don’t even have any freakin’ wings.”

His eyebrows raise. “Do you really need a visual representation of what you already know to be true?”

“Dude, what-“ 

Dean jumps back against the headboard when he suddenly stands straight up, balancing easily on the thin wooden rail at the end of his bed.

The TV turns on by itself behind him with white snowy static since its still on the auxillary channel from playing video games. The boy rolls his shoulders and widens his stance. Dean’s mouth drops open a little as long shadows stretch outwards on the wall behind him in the shape of what looks like.. Honest to fucking god.. wings.

“Christ..” Dean breathes.

He glares down at him for a steady minute as the wings expand the width of his room and then the tv cuts out and the shadows are gone. The boy seems to relax his shoulders and hops down to the floor. It’s hard to reconcile his appearance now, expecting to see feathers sprouting out of his angular shoulder blades.

“So.. an angel.” He says finally and it sounds far too normal for how he feels. Turning to sit on the side of the bed, Dean watches him casually walk towards the bookshelf and pick out a book at random.  
“I hope you do not require further proof. Strictly speaking, that isn’t allowed.”

“By who?”

He doesn’t look up from thumbing through the book but says, “Why were you crying before?”

“Hey, I told you. I wasn’t crying.”

“Why were you angry then?” He amends easily, apparently remembering what Dean had said at the time.

“It was nothing. My dad.. he can be an asshole sometimes. I found his..” Dean stumbles over what to say he found. ”..uh, his weapons collection.”

“Your father is a hunter.” The angel says. It’s not a question.

“Um yeah, well sometimes I guess. Like deer when it’s the season and stuff.”

He’s frowns, but Dean’s still talking because he just remembered his vanished wounds.

“What’d you do to my leg? Not to look a gift-horse in the mouth, but it woulda been fun to explain all that blood without a cut.”

“I healed you.” He says as he picks up a model helicopter and pushes the plastic propellers around, idly.

“That’s a nifty trick. What else can you do?”

“I can save you from falling to your death.” There’s a slight edge to his tone.

“Yeah.. thanks for that. Though, if I recall it was seeing you that caused my nose dive.”

He stops watching the blades spin and looks up.

“I could leave.”

Dean makes himself stop before he can yell no. “Well, I mean if you want. Whatever.”

The boy raises his eyebrows and puts down what he’d been inspecting and takes a step towards the window.

“Wait!”

A small smile curves his lips and Dean rolls his eyes. “Fine, whatever. I just thought maybe you’d wanna talk or something since you’ve been creepin’ outside forever.”

He sits back near the headboard, huffily.

After a few moments of holding his gaze, the boy grabs a few books from the shelf and walks towards the bed. Not pausing, he hops up on the rail then takes a step on the mattress before sinking down to sit cross-legged.

It’s.. odd to have another male sitting on his bed at night like this. This close he can smell him.. like a hundred summer days in the sun.. like grass just after its mowed.. but then he shakes it off because he’s seriously getting lost in another dude’s scent. He finally decides it’s time to ask, “So what’s your name?”

“Castiel.” He opens a book, Lord of the Flies, and turns to a page seemingly at random.

“Casta-what?”

He ignores Dean to read what looks like the copyright page.

“I’m Dean.”

“I know.”

“Yeah well it’s polite to ask. And anyway let’s pretend you don’t because that freaks me out a bit, huh? So.. Hi Cas. I’m Dean.” He sticks out his hand across the bed and the angel looks at it.

Dean keeps it out, waiting.

His hand is eventually gripped by a warm one. When they don’t move except to stay clasped, Dean realizes he probably doesn’t do this often so he moves it up and down quickly.. a little flustered because they’d basically just been holding hands.

“Hello, Dean.”

They let go but Cas stays looking at him.

“So.. uh, what do angels do?” It’s almost too much to be under the scrutiny of those eyes.

“What do you mean?”

“Like genies grant wishes, vampires suck blood.. what does an angel do?”

Castiel grins indulgently. “What do humans do?”

Dean thinks for a second. “Mainly fuck shit up, I guess.”

He makes a noise that might have been a laugh. It makes Dean feel a little less tense. As unbelievable as it is, he’s having a talk with an angel and he’s going to try to get some of his questions answered.

“Where’s your wings when they’re not on invisible mode and why do you look like you couldn’t buy beer?”

Scrunching his eyebrows he asks, “Beer?”

“I mean, are you like a Doogie Howser angel? Do they all look as young as you?”

Picking one question, Castiel answers, “I’ve yet to reach maturity.” He brings his bicep forward to show the silver cuff shining in the moonlight. “It marks me as a fledgling.”

“What about the other angels? Where are they?”

“You are very inquisitive.” Castiel says blandly and goes back to flipping through the second book he picked up.

“Are you friggin’ kidding me? I’m talking to an angel! An angel that eats McDonald’s by the way. What’s that about?”

“If you are referring to the food you left me, I enjoyed it immensely.”

“It’s called a hamburger. Though there isn’t any ham in it. Huh..” He takes a second to frown at that then shakes himself. “Angels eat?”

“No.”

“But you-“

Suddenly, Castiel straightens his legs and is standing next to the bed.

“I must go.”

“Oh. Uh, yeah okay.”

They look at each other a moment before he just turns and walks to the window.

“Um..”

Castiel pauses and turns over his shoulder.

“Are you gonna come back?”

He glances at the window then at Dean again.

“Would you want me to?”

“Sure. Ya know, If you want..”

Castiel holds his gaze for what seems like too long before stepping up on the windowseat. He tenses like he’s about to jump but stills again. Finally he says without turning back, “I’ll return in five days time.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for so much John, guys. He's a part of Dean's childhood and my story so I hope you're not too bored. It'll start getting to the good Destiel interaction now, loves. Hope you're enjoying. (o:`,


	4. Wings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Is that not allowed, Cas?

The next day is a Sunday and Dean doesn’t have time to start obsessing over waiting for his nightly visitor because his mom tells him they’re having company for dinner. She makes him go find a button up shirt upstairs that he just throws a flannel over anyway.

He’s peeling potatoes when the door bell rings. 

“I got it!” His dad calls as he walks past the kitchen.

Dean can hear laughing and voices before a woman with long brown hair and smile cresses in her skin enters the kitchen with a little blonde girl in tow. She’s maybe 9 or 10 and keeping close to her mom.

“Hi! You made it!” Mary finishes washing her hands in the sink and quickly dries them on a dish towel. She rushes over but seems to hesitate in front of them for a second, uncertain. The woman grabs her in a hug for a long moment then pulls away smiling but kinda sad.

“Hey hun. How ya been keepin’ yerself?” She has a Texan accent, he thinks. Bobby and his dad follow a half minute later. 

“Good. Really good. Sam’s getting so big and saying new words all the time.”

She nods smiling. “And who’s this?”

“Dean?” His dad reminds him. Putting down the peeler, he wipes his hands on the dish towel and comes closer.

“Dean Winchester, ma’am.” He moves to extend his hand.

“Aw, none of that, now. Call me Ellen.” She shakes his hand firmly, then gestures behind her. “And this is my Jo.” 

She peeks out from behind her mom and he smiles awkwardly and waves. She lifts up her hand in a small wave in return but doesn’t smile.

Ellen sighs and asks to be put to work. His dad grabs all the adults a beer and tells Dean to go show Jo the backyard before Sam wakes up from his nap. 

Great, dismissed like a little kid. What the hell was he supposed to talk about with her?

Ellen takes over peeling potatoes and Dean walks towards the back door. He opens it but Jo hasn’t moved from her spot in the kitchen.

“Joanna Beth, you go on now. I’ll be right here.”

The girl drags her feet but crosses the kitchen to the door and follows him outside.

“Well um this is the backyard.” He holds out his hand. 

“Yeah, I got that.” She raises her eyebrows and purses her lips sarcastically.

Dean rolls his eyes and walks towards the simple swing set his parents had bought for Sam. He plops down at the bottom of the plastic slide and leans back to lay his back against it so he’s staring up at the sky. Eventually, Jo unfolds her crossed arms and walks to the hanging swing to sit on it and kick at red mulch on the ground.

Dean cushions his head with his hands and wonders if Cas is up there somewhere or if he stays on Earth. It’s amazing how much he still doesn’t know about the guy.. angel.. but he was already looking forward to his next visit. When a bird caws and flys overhead, Dean starts to try and imagine what it’s like when he flies. Does he swoop in swirls or dive and glide?

He breaks out of his daydream when he hears the squeak of the chain on the swing. He should probably try to talk to this girl. Be polite and all even though she wasn’t making it easy.

“So uh, Bobby’s your dad?”

“What?! Don’t be a dumbass!”

Dean’s startled by her violent response and sits up to see her glaring at him on the verge of tears. 

“Geez, I didn’t-“

“Just shut up, okay!” She turns in the swing away from him to sniff until she wipes her eyes on long sleeve. 

Shit, what just happened? After a few more tense minutes, Dean has to say something. 

“Look, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to..”

“My dad’s dead.” 

Oh. Well that explained it. Now he feels awful. He felt totally inadequate at giving comfort and bit his lip thinking of what to do next.

She makes a noise of annoyance. “You don’t have to say anything. It’s not going to make any difference. Can we just sit here without talking until they call us back in?”

Dean heaves and regrets not knowing the right thing to say but is a little relieved by her words.

“Yeah, sure.” He says quietly and goes back to watching the sky.

+++ +++ +++ +++ +++ +++ +++ +++ +++ +++ +++

 

The days fly by in a whirl of classes, friends, home, sleep, repeat and it’s the day that Castiel said he’d return before he knows it. The night of however stretches on and on, hours passing slowly on his digital alarm clock. 

Castiel doesn’t appear until almost 2am. Dean turns around from pacing to see him standing about a foot away. 

“Jesus!” He almost shoves him he’s so startled by his close proximity without a warning. “Personal space, dude!” 

Castiel only takes a step back as Dean catches his breath, waiting for the adrenaline to stop pumping. “I thought you weren’t gonna show.”

“I said I would, Dean.” He says tightly.

“Alright, chill. Sorry.” 

Castiel seems pacified and turns away to pick up a dragon figurine off Dean’s shelf. It was a weird habit he had of seemingly not being able to stay still, always looking at one possession or another with intent curiosity. It kinda reminded him of Ariel from The Little Mermaid, so interested in human knick knacks.. And no he definitely hadn’t seen The Little Mermaid. 

“So…”

Dean looks around his room as if for something else to say. He didn’t want to just constantly bombard the guy with questions but he couldn’t think of what he was supposed to do with him now that he was here.

“Yes?” Cas says, glancing at him.

“What’s new with you?” That sounded lame. Inwardly groaning, Dean sits down on the window seat, stretching his legs out apart in front of him. He hears a book drop to the floor suddenly. Castiel’s jaw is tight and his arms are at his sides.

“What?”

Dean frowns looking behind him and then realizes he’s blocking the window. The exit.

“Oh. Sorry.” 

Getting up, he walks over to his bed and sits up by the headboard like last time. After a few tense moments, the angel grabs a box of his cassette tapes and comes to sit cross-legged at the opposite end.. just as he did before as well.

Dean watches him pick up at tape and scrutinize the small picture of a band.

“I gotta tell ya, man.. besides unloading like a million questions on you, I don’t know what else to say to an angel.”

“I could ask you questions if you would feel more comfortable.” He says, picking up another tape.

“You wanna know about me?”

“Very much.”

Dean tries not to smile stupidly because he’s a little flattered. “Why?”

“I have not interacted with many humans.”

“Cool, so I’m like an ambassador for mankind?”

Castiel just raises an eyebrow.

“Okay, shoot.”

“How often do you eat?”

“Ha. Well me me or mankind me?”

“Is there a difference?”

“Well I’m not a good example. Put somethin’ in front of me and I’ll put it away but normally humans eat three times a day. More or less.”

“Do you have a preference for what you consume?”

“Not really. I’m not a big fan of veggies but besides that.. Oh! But pie is where it’s at. Especcially my mom’s. I left you some blueberry once. When she makes apple, you’ve gotta try it.”

From there Castiel asks about Dean’s mother then what he does during the day. When Dean says he usually goes to school, he has to spend a whole half hour explaining the schedule of his school day. It was awkward at first, but the more he talks the less stilted it feels. Castiel never interrupts or adds anything but seems so focused on his answers, despite his preoccupation with methodically inspecting every tape he owns. Soon, Dean’s just talking.. telling stories about Sam and his favorite movies or the storyline of some comic until he sees the sun. 

“Uggh. I’m gonna be dead tomorrow.. well today.”

“My apologizes, I did not realize how much time had passed.”

“No it was fun. Weird, but fun. Kinda like you.”

Castiel smiles and looks down almost shy.

“Are you gonna come again?”

“If you would like.”

And that’s how they started. Dean would always ask if he’d come back and Cas would reply with some variation of “if Dean wanted”. Sometimes he’d give him a day to expect him, but not always. Then he’d just appear one night, standing near his window. Once Dean was playing Mario on his new Nintendo and he just came in and sat down next to him. Dean offered to show him how to play but Cas declined, content to watch him.

It never entered Dean's mind to tell his parents or friends. They would never understand and he enjoyed their nights together too much to risk ever sharing him with anyone else. Besides it made him feel special to have this secret and that Cas chose him to talk to. No one ever seems to really listen to a 15yr old.. But he paid such careful attention to ever word that came out of Dean's mouth. 

Mostly, they sit on Dean’s bed, trading questions or Dean would ramble until he got too tired. Cas would be thumbing through a book or fiddling with an action figure. He had to explain why certain ones were left in their boxes to increase their value which only seemed to confuse Cas. It should have annoyed Dean.. someone messing with all his stuff but he couldn’t be irritated with Cas’ child-like need to touch and toy with everything.

Through the next four visits, Dean probably gave a lot more than he got.. but he did learn that Cas doesn’t eat, but he can. There is a Heaven, but he prefers to be down here. There were other angels and they were all like his brothers and sisters, but Cas was only close to a few. He didn’t talk about them any further and Dean didn’t press. He hated landing on a topic that made him close up. He ended up feeling like he’d tripped a wire and would backtrack to find something else to talk about.

Once he asked if there was a god and Cas seemed about to clam up but then just said, “Yes.” So Dean had to ask, “Have you talked to him? What’s he like? Does he have a beard and look like Santa or is he all white light and stuff?”

“I don’t know, Dean. I have never seen him. Gabr-… my brother, says he’s seen him. That is the only reason I even know my father ever existed.”

Dean realizes he fucked up because Cas is staring off at the window, back straight as a board and there’s a sound like feathers rubbing together.

“Hey.” Before he can get up, Dean reaches out and touches his forearm. Cas turns to look down at the fingers gripping him. It suddenly occurs to Dean.. this is the first time he’s touched the angel. Besides that one introductory handshake, they'd always kept their distance. He’s sure his ears are pink but he doesn’t let go. He’s beginning to see Cas isn’t an odd thing to ogle but has feelings and hurts and it makes him want to fix the wound he just opened. 

When Cas finally moves his eyes up to his face, Dean says, “I’m sorry I brought it up but if you ever need a friend to talk to.. I’m here, kay?”

“You believe us to be friends, Dean?”

“Yeah. I mean, don’t you?”

Cas frowns and looks back down. “It hadn’t occurred to me.”

Dean releases his arm, not knowing what other comfort he could give since Cas obviously wasn’t going to talk about it and the moment passed. They sat in silence and when Dean hears the rustle of feathers shifting again he asks the first thing that pops into his head to break the quiet.

“Do you think I could feel your wings sometime or would that be uber weird?

Castiel jerks his head up, eyes wide.

“I know they’re like not able to be seen by us mere mortals or on this plane or whatever you said but I was just- what?”

Chewing his lip, Castiel seems more flustered than Dean’s ever seen him.

“Is that like not allowed or something?”

“No.. It’s not that.”

Dean watches him swallow and smirks at how off-footed he managed to make a freaking angel. He’s about to take pity on him and tell him it was no big deal when he feels something brush his upper arm.. just below his shirt sleeve. Dean almost slaps at it because it feels like a bug or something but he sees Castiel is staring at his arm too.

Holy Shit.

Dean tries to stay perfectly still as the softest touch slides up his skin. Cas is hunched forward a bit with a furrowed brow, checking between Dean’s face and his arm as if to make sure this was okay.

Dean lets out a small involuntary laugh because it’s ticklish. One of the phantom feathers touches his cheek and he abruptly realizes how intimate this kinda is with the only sound being them breathing, Cas a little shakily, and how he moves forward a bit more so now both sides of Dean’s arms and face are being caressed. It sends a shiver through him

He can’t take Cas’ intense blue gaze this close so he turns his face into the softness. It’s surreal, he can’t see anything but he can feel individual tips and edges against his sensitive skin. Dean breathes in a dusty smell like wheat and earth and powdered honey. As if in a trance, he brings fingers up to try and touch them.

Cas abruptly sits back and with a whip of air, he’s free. All the gentle brushes of downy fluff rubbing him are gone.

Dean blinks. Across from him, Cas seems almost out of breath, chest heaving and arms braced behind him so he’s leaning away from Dean.

“Was that sufficient?”

“Uh.. Yeah, that was.. something. Man, they’re crazy soft, Cas.”

He’s staring at the ceiling when he mumbles, “Thank you, Dean.”

Not long after that, Cas says he needs to leave and will be back within a week.

Dean touches his cheek when he’s gone, remembering. Then he scratches it to get rid of the ghost feelings. He tosses and turns but never really falls back asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit of wingkink does a reader good. Hope you’re all enjoying. I really adore every one of you and especially anyone who drops me a comment or kudo. You keep me motivated and inspired, darlings!


	5. Caught

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He pauses, but doesn’t think about it too hard.. not with the good feelings pulsing through him.

The next day at school, Dean’s locked in a janitor’s closet with his frequent make-out buddy, Amanda Heckerling. She giggles prettily when he dips down to kiss her neck. She maybe talked too much but they weren’t talking at the moment. Her soft, perfect blonde hair caresses his face and he pushes her harder against the wall, knocking a broom to the floor in the process. His tongue dives back into her mouth to press aggressively against hers.

She breaks away, laughing. “Whoa there, tiger. What’s gotten into you?”

“You, Sugar.” Dean says easily but when he immediately tries to go for her lips again, she evades him. “Oh yeah?” Amanda was a lot of fun but she really did talk too fucking much. Dean quickly turns his head to capture her again and keeps kissing until they both have to take a breath. When he fists her hair in his hand, she jerks back an inch. “Dean! You’re going to screw up my hair!”

He sighs and mumbles sorry against her lips. She smirks and bends to suck at a spot on his neck. Her hand comes up to cup his jaw and a thumb brushes down his cheek. It sends him right back to last night with Cas’ feathers sending shivers down his spine. For a second, it makes him feel like Cas is watching them and that bothers him for some reason he can’t begin to guess about. 

Now he’s the one to pull back. 

“What’s wrong?”

He frowns, not knowing what to tell her. “Nothing. Just.. don’t do that.” He grabs her hand from his face and holds it at his side.

“Um.. ookay.” She says, annoyingly.

The bell rings. Amanda turns away and opens the door. “Let me know when you’re done being weird.”

Dean rolls his eyes and waits a minute alone in the small room for his hormones to get under control.

+++ +++ +++ +++ +++ +++ +++ +++ +++

That night in bed, he closes his eyes and lets himself remember the hot n’ heavy tongue wrestling with Amanda. It’s usually good fodder for his spankbank.

The pressure on his dick from trapping her against the wall had been awesome. Before she stopped it. 

Dean licks the palm of his right hand then brings it down under the covers, inside his boxers. He hisses quietly as he strokes his stiffness. 

Her tongue slick and sliding with his…

He tugs upwards a bit faster, imagining pulling up her skimpy skirt or pushing fingers under her top to squeeze her tits. Dean swallows a moan. 

For a brief second, he gets an involuntary flash of her gently stroking his cheek and how he kinda freaked. The memory of her shampoo, strawberries, gets replaced with the smell of earth and wheat and that freshness of warm afternoons that makes you antsy to be outside. He pauses, but doesn’t think about it too hard. Not with the good feelings pulsing through him. Shutting his eyes tighter, Dean lets the softness of Amanda’s fingers melt into the sensory memory of Cas’ wings. The thoughts of her touching him lower, changes to feathers dragging along his dick. Brushing, tickling.. he plants his feet and fucks up into his hand with every stroke now. Closer.. closer..

“What are you doing?” 

Dean’s eyes fly open to see an angel a few feet from the bed, eyes wide and mouth slightly parted.

“Cas?!”

Dean lets go of his throbbing cock and bunches the covers around him.

“What the fuck are you doing here?”

“I.. I told you I would return.”

“In like a week!” Dean can’t look at him, running his hand through his hair and down his face. His pulse is in his throat at being caught. 

“I believe I said within the week..” 

When Dean just glares at him, he sheepishly looks down at his bare feet. 

Well at least he knew why the smell of outdoors and crap got all mixed up with his happy moment. It was only natural he'd get caught up in thoughts of.. wait a sec.

“How long were you there?”

Cas doesn’t look up and its odd to see him all bashful. “I’m sorry I intruded, Dean.”

“Dude, humans need Me Time. Just.. just can you go?” He’s so embarrassed, he doesn’t think he can sit there with Cas across from him in the same bed tonight.

Castiel frowns but says, “Of course.”

When Dean blows out a breath and turns away again, Cas abruptly starts walking closer.

“What are you doing?” He turns back quickly when he’s standing right next to the bed.

“You are injured.” He raises two fingers towards him but Dean knocks away his hand.

“No I’m not.”

When Cas pushes his head firmly to the side by his jaw, Dean chalks it up to how on edge he still is but his dick gives a twitch.

“Back off, man.”

“Your neck..” He keeps his hold, while he thumbs over the mark.

Dean gulps shallowly before he realizes what Cas is seeing. 

“Oh, that. I’m not hurt, Cas. It’s just a hickey from a chick at school.”

“What is that?”

“Man, you need to get out more. It’s like a love bite you get from making out.. sucking on someone’s neck.”

Cas pushes his jaw away hard when he lets go and Dean whips his head back, getting more pissed by the second.

“What the hell is your problem? I’m the one who should be bitchy about you poppin’ in unannounced and seeing.. well unannounced.” He stutters.

“I apologize, Dean. I’ll leave you now.” Cas says tightly, striding across the room without looking back. He jumps out the window, out of sight.

“Dammit!” He throws a pillow across the room in frustration at the last few awkward minutes. 

Footsteps pound up the stairs. Fucking great..

“What is going on up here?” His dad barges in and his lowered voice does nothing to hide his anger. “I heard voices.”

“Sorry, it was the TV.”

“Well turn it off and go to bed.”

“Yeah, I did already!” He points at the dark TV and his own tone is slightly heated.

“Hey, don’t you talk to me like that, boy! Where is this attitude coming from?”

Dean inhales deeply and tries for a calm he is nowhere near. “Sorry, Dad. It was just a show I was into and it ended really sucky.”

His dad, seemingly mollified, says “Just keep it down.”

“Yep. Night, Dad.”

“Night.”

After his door closes, Dean drops back against his remaining pillow heavily. The perfect end to a shitty day.

+++ +++ +++ +++ +++ +++ +++ +++ +++

The following day, he’s in the backyard staring up at the sky.. still angry and confused at the night before. Sam whines from the bottom of the plastic slide, waiting for Dean to pick him back up to the top so he can slide down again. 

“Dean! Sam slide! Dean! Deeean!!”

He sighs before smiling down at his baby bro. “Sorry, Sammy.” 

Dean grabs the toddler by his middle. Hanging him upside-down, he starts whirling him in a circle making helicopter noises.

The back door opens behind him but Dean just assumes it’s his mom.

“Hey.”

He turns to see Jo, blonde hair up in a pony tail and hands stuffed in her jean pockets.

“Um.. hey.” He eyes her wearily with Sam giggling and squirming in his arms. He lifts him up to the top of the slide and Sam quickly scoots until he descends again with a happy squeal. 

“My mom stopped by to see your mom for a sec.”

“Oh, okay.” Dean doesn’t know what else to say.

“Uh, sorry about the other day. I’m still..”

“Nah, forget about it.”

She goes to sit on the swing and watch Dean lift Sam up over and over again, mechanically.

“So why the mopey face?”

“Huh? I don’t have a mopey face.” 

“Yeah okay. What’s her name?”

“What?! It’s not about a girl.. and what would you know about it? You’re a kid.”

“I’m 11 and I’m not a kid.” She says, huffily. “Girls mature faster than boys anyway.”

“Is that a fact?”

“Yeah! Look it up in a book if you can read.”

Ellen calls from the door. “Jo? If you’re done yellin’ at the Winchesters?” She smiles and waves at Dean.

“Now if you’ll excuse me.” She flips her pony tail over her shoulder and walks away.

Well it went a little better than last time.. he guessed.

+++ +++ +++ +++ +++ +++ +++ +++

He doesn’t see Castiel again for over a month.. So long that he forgets his embarrassment and just wishes he’d come back. Even though it’s colder at night now, he leaves the window wide open in invitation. Maybe he blew it but how were you supposed to react when a guy sees you jerking off? And Cas had acted all disgusted at his hickey.. well he was an angel. They were probably against sins of the flesh and all that. Wow if he knew what awful, sacrilegious thoughts had been in Dean's head right before he interrupted him. He still blushes to think about what he imagined Cas' wings doing. When he finally does return, it’s just a random night like any other that he had hoped to see him. Dean’s up with his bedside light on, reading comics.

With a whip of air, a shadow in the shape of a figure stretches against the wall directly opposite the window. Dean’s heart is beating in his ears but he forces himself to continue reading without looking up.

Eventually, he hears his bare feet quietly making a path towards him. He stands by the end of the bed but Dean doesn’t acknowledge him. The bed finally depresses with his weight when he sits down in his usual spot. Dean slides across a Superman comic to him and flicks his eyes up only to see Cas staring at him, blank faced.. then he pretends to go back to reading.

After a few moments, Dean elevates his eyes just high enough to see Cas starting to flip through the pages gently.. just like he had showed him to be with comics. Smiling small, Dean looks back down again and they read in comfortable silence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is a bit short but the next part will be a good sized chunk. Hope you weren't too disappointed. (o:`,  
> Also fun fact: Amanda Heckerling is the high school student young Dean takes up with for a while in the episode After School Special.  
> Next chapter is a Birthday Chapter!! Dean is turning 16.. I feel like maybe I'm too excited by this. :-p


	6. Gifts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I have seen enough of humanity to know you celebrate the anniversary of your birth. If you had told me I would have…

It’s the night before his 16th birthday but Dean can’t sleep. Castiel hasn’t been back to visit in several weeks. Everything had seemed normal again between them but then he started appearing only infrequently.. and when he did come it wasn’t for very long. He didn’t know how to fix it and Cas never said anything. Dean sure as shit wasn’t going to initiate a talk about that awkward night.

He goes to the window and sits on the sill, hanging a leg over the side. Maybe he should have brought up that his birthday was coming up the last time he’d seen him, but how was he supposed to know he wouldn’t show up again for so long. It was kinda silly but Dean would have liked to see him tomorrow night.

The stars seem to get brighter the longer he stares at them. He imagines Cas gliding around up there with wings he’s never seen.

“Cas.” He whispers into the night. “Where are ya, man?”

+++ +++ +++ +++ +++ +++ +++ +++ +++

His mom wakes him up with chocolate chip pancakes and a new watch, black with a large face and metal links on the band. At the dinner table, he keeps checking it, smirking.

“Have you picked out where we’re going for your birthday dinner tonight, hun?” She tries to contain the mess that is Sam tearing apart a pancake in his booster chair.

“I’m thinkin’ Smokey Bones. You can never go wrong with BBQ.”

“Sounds good. No.. Sam baby..” She catches half a pancake midair as it goes flying. “Okay no more chocolate for you, mister.”

When Dean gets to school, Charlie gives him a sticker about the size of his hand in homeroom.

“Happy Birthday! It’s for your locker. It was seriously lacking affiliation.” Dean smiles when he sees it’s the DeathStar from Star Wars and on impulse gives her a one-armed hug. They hadn’t been too close besides idle chatting before class but it kinda touched him.

“Aw. Are we having a moment?” She laughs pulling back and punches him in the arm lightly. “You’re getting sentimental in your old age, Winchester.”

“Yeah, I guess so.”

At lunch, him, Benny, Victor and Ash all skip lunch period to grab pizza at a nearby Mom n’ Pops place. They spend almost an hour joking between mouthfuls of sauce and cheese, sipping pepsi and feeling carefree and full of that youthful excitement you get when you’re out with friends, reveling in being somewhere you’re not supposed to be.

They make it back just before the classes change for 5th period and he even has time to pull Amanda into their favorite hidden spot. He whispers pet names between kissing her sweetly and she lets him get to second base this time. It was turning out to be a pretty great birthday..

Until he gets home.

When Dean comes through the door, Sam is crying in his fenced in Baby Corral. Arms up, it’s clear he wants to be let out but his mom is pacing in the kitchen on the phone.

Dean goes to grab Sam and holds him close, making soothing noises.

“No, don’t you do this to me-“ He walks a little closer to hear. “I know, but you said-“ His mom smiles weakly when she notices him. “Just please come home as soon as you can. Okay, bye.”

Sam squirms, so Dean lets him down to run off. “What’s up?”

“Your father’s going to be a little late.”

“Seriously?”

“I know, I know. He says he’ll be here soon.”

Dean sighs. “Okay, whatever.”

Flatly refusing to consider doing homework on his birthday, Dean goes to the TV and flicks through the channels until he finds a Ren and Stimpy marathon.

Hours pass and Mary makes peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, crusts cut off, to hold them over.Trying not to take out his annoyance on his mom, he smirks and asks Sam, “You get any of that in your mouth there, buddy?” Even though his brother’s was cut into four triangles, he still managed to get grape jelly all over his chin, nose and one ear because he stubbornly refused any help. Sam giggles and tries to reach the jelly on his nose with his tongue.

Mary kept glancing out the curtains at the front yard, then the clock, finally at her sons, giving a strained smile and saying something like “I’m sure he just got held up. Any minute now.”

It was looking more and more like their traditional family birthday dinner wasn’t going to happen. Dean smiled for his mom and said it was alright. Not to worry and they could go out anytime.

Around 7, when it was just starting to get dark outside, his dad bursts through the door. Hand still on the knob, he slumps against it and looks close to tipping forward.

“John?!” Mary quickly runs to him and checks for where he’s wounded.. because blood is soaking his shirt and dripping on the linoleum.

“I..I’m alright. Call Bobby.” He winces and sits down right there in front of the door.

“Dad?” Dean goes to help him.

“Take your brother upstairs Dean.”

“Okay, but Dad-“

“Now, Son!” He bites out and sucks at his teeth as if the exertion of yelling hurt.

Dean’s jaw ticks but he turns to pull a sniffling Sam out of his booster seat and grab a dishtowel to wipe his face on his way to the stairs. He watches his mom talk frantically into the phone and hunch down by his father’s side before starts up to his room with Sam in his arms.

“It’s alright, Sammy. We’re gonna hang out in my room for a while, kay?”

He pulls his cushy comforter off his bed and spreads it out on the floor. Setting his brother down, Dean grabs some old Superman, Green Lantern, Flash and Batman figures for him to play with.

After a while, Dean goes to sit at the window. He sees Bobby’s beat up Chevelle tear into the yard and jerk to a stop. He crosses the room to the bedroom door and inches it open to see what he can hear. There’s only muffled voices and painful grunts every so often.

“Thu-per Man!”

Dean opens the door a little wider, but can’t hear much more.

“Dean! Thu-per Man!”

“Yeah, I know, Sammy. Superman.”

“Dean.”

He turns at the familiar gravelly voice, and sees Sam is pointing at his absent angel who’s stepping down from the window sill. Sam claps.

“What the hell, dude! I don’t see you for weeks and you choose tonight to turn up?”

Forgetting in his panic that this was exactly what he'd wanted, Dean quickly closes his door and stops when he’s halfway between Sam and Castiel.

“You prayed to me. I was.. concerned.”

“What? No I didn’t.”

“Last night. I could not come until now.”

Dean thinks about how he was thinking of him and said his name. Huh, guess that counted.

“Oh. Sorry.. I didn’t mean to. I thought you prayed to saints and god and stuff. It works for angels too?”

“Yes. If you think of me and concentrate on words you want me to hear, then I will.”

“Sorta like a one way convo on a can with a string.”

“No.. nothing like that.”

Dean grins. “Nevermind. Well I guess you should meet my little bro.”

He steps aside and reveals an open-mouthed Sam who when he sees both of them are looking at him says simply, “Thu-per Man.”

“Uh, yeah kinda. This is your imaginary friend, Cas.”

Castiel raises his eyebrows at that but bends down and says, “Hello, Sam.” He extends his hand like Dean did the first time they met. Sam just looks at it before grabbing his finger and trying to gnaw on it.  
Cas lets him and gives Dean a confused if not slightly worried expression.

“Oh good. He likes you.”

Extricating himself, the angel wipes his hand on his dark brown leather pants. “I don’t remember that being part of your greeting ritual.”

For a second, Dean imagines biting Cas’ fingers and feels his face heat.

“Hey, can you uh.. like stick around for a bit? My dad’s hurt downstairs and.. ya know, just till I know he’ll be alright.”

Maybe if it got really bad.. Cas could heal him. He won’t ask until he knows it’s a last option but still it’s comforting to have him here. Just in case. He doesn’t know if Cas senses this but after a second of frowning he finally says, “Of course.”

Castiel sits down with an arm around one bent knee in front of Sam as he babbles on about each figure, half gibberish, half stunted words all strung together. He nods and listens the whole while and its makes him oddly happy after all the worry knotting his stomach about his dad.

“You are close with your brother.” He says while he observes Sam laying down on the makeshift pallet sleepily.

“Yeah, he grows on ya.” Dean ruffles Sam’s mop of brown hair, affectionately. “You’re close with a few of your siblings too, right?”

“Yes. A few brothers.” Dean nods but Cas keeps talking. “I did have a sister once..”

“Geez, I’m sorry Cas.” He hesitates with a hand already up to grab his shoulder to comfort him.

“She isn’t dead, but she might as well be. She.. she left us. Left me.”

Dean’s confused but can tell this is one of those topics he should skip over. But Cas is the one bringing it up.

“You don’t know where she is?” He tentatively asks.

Castiel picks up a Thesaurus lying on the floor with the other school books and Dean takes that as a hint. Apparently they were done talking about siblings.

After another hour, Sam is curled up on the comforter against Dean’s leg. Cas is quiet, sitting next to him. He looks back at the window from time to time and it starts to irritate Dean. He can’t help thinking about the days and days between Cas’ visits now. Maybe he’s getting bored with him. They’ve talked about every mundane human thing Dean could think of.. down to what games he plays with Sam and what he hates about Algebra. Maybe the angel had another guy.. or even girl he liked to visit more now. Eventually the nightly visits would continue to be less and less until one day… he’d just stop coming.

“I can almost hear your thoughts, you’re thinking so loudly.”

Dean glares at him. “What?! You can’t though, right? Because that’s really-”

“Impolite. And we are friends, as you said.”

Cas glances at the window again and Dean’s getting pretty fucking annoyed with it by now.

“If you wanna go, just freakin’ go already.”

Cas turns to him with knit eyebrows. “I don’t.”

A few seconds of more silence and Dean asks, “Cas, do you.. uh.. do you visit other people? Like on the days when you’re not here?”

The angel is watching him closely now, not fidgeting with one of Dean’s possessions like he usually does. Keeping those crazy blue eyes of his steadily on him, Cas asks slowly, “Would it bother you if I did?”

Dean grits his teeth and makes a scoffing sound. “No. Why would it?”

“If the answer doesn’t affect you, why ask the question?”

“God, you’re a pain in the ass sometimes.”

He stares ahead at the moonlight making shadows over his floor. Cas seems happy to just sit there without picking back up the conversation. After several minutes more of neither of them talking, Dean says, “I just wanted to know if..” Cas turns to him again, waiting. “If you have this with a lot of other people too or if I was..”

Dean manages to cut off just in time before he gets out “special.” He’s isn’t looking anywhere near Cas’ direction but he hears his, “No, I don’t.”

“Oh.” Dean glances at him quickly. Chewing his lip, he turns away and then right back again. “No like not a lot or no like no one else.”

Cas’ lips twitch up for a quick moment. “No like no one else.”

“Oh.” Dean can’t stop the stupid smile on his face so he shifts his gaze back down at Sam. When he looks up, Cas is still staring at him.

“Why me?”

Now Castiel turns away, shrugging. “Your window was open.”

Dean nods, the smile slipping away.

“And you were.. interesting. Your soul felt restless. It was..” Cas frowns up at the ceiling like he’s remembering. “..difficult to ignore. I could not seem to help myself from trying to learn more about you. I would not have approached you so directly had you not fallen that night.”

Dean rubs the back of his neck, feeling flattered and anxious at the same time.

“Well anyway, I’m glad you picked my-“

Soft footsteps on the stairs have Dean sitting up straighter.

“Cas, you have to-“ But he’s already gone. His bedroom door opens and his mom comes in with her chin up and eyes puffy.

“Hey, honey.”

“Mom, what happened?“

“He.. he said it was just a stupid hunting accident. He got kicked when a buck’s...” She trails off and seems on the verge of crying now. Sitting next to Dean, Mary cups his face. “Your father is complicated, Dean.. But baby, he loves you very much.”

“I know..”

“I promise we’ll go out this weekend for your birthday. He really is a good man. I wish..”

“He’s going to be okay, though?” He cuts in, not wanting to hear it.

“Yes, thank god for Bobby. Your dad will be fine. Angels were watching over him.. and they’re watching over Sam and you too. Always.”

“Mom..” Dean turns a little pink, thinking about Cas possibly just outside the window.

“You’ll never be too old to hear it. Even if you’re thirty and married with children, I’ll be telling them too.”

“Alright, alright. Geez.” He rolls his eyes when she kisses his forehead.

“Thanks for watching over Sam tonight. You’re such a great big brother.”

She picks up her sleeping son and gets to her feet. Dean does the same and makes like he’s about to change clothes for bed, pulling a tshirt and plaid pajama pants out of his drawers.

“Night, Mom.”

She flicks off the light, maneuvering Sam in her arms and says, “Happy Birthday, Honey.”

He waits no more than a minute while the sound of his mom descending the stairs fades and he goes to the window.

“Cas?” He whispers. Nothing. Maybe he took off when his mom came up.

“Dean.” Whirling, he almost bumps into him standing right behind him.

“Where were you?”

“In your closet.”

“My mom coulda seen you!”

“She didn’t. I was interested in seeing her.” He tilts his head a little and ask, “ Have you told her about me?”

“Christ! Of course not.”

“Then why did she say I was watching over you?”

“Dammit. You woulda had to hear that, huh? Just forget it.”

Cas looks like he wants to argue but then instead says, “Your mother also indicated it was your birthday.”

“Yeah. I almost forgot with all the drama. Doesn’t matter.. it’s just another day.”

“I have seen enough of humanity to know you celebrate the anniversary of your birth. If you had told me I would have…” He trails off, brow furrowed.

“Cas, really it’s no biggie. Don’t worry about it. I’m going out with some friends this weekend.”

The angel looks practically annoyed for a second before glancing at the window.

“I could.. would you want me to take you flying?”

“What, for real? You mean like..” Dean lifts his arms and flaps them once. “Flying flying.”

“Yes. I would carry you.”

“You really think you can take holding me and keeping airborne? I almost died taking a swan dive once already.”

“You doubt my strength, Dean?” Castiel’s whole body radiates irritation.

“No, I just mean..” He turns back to the window and steps up on the seat then the ledge to lean out and judge the distance to the ground wearily. “It’s a long way down if you’re wrong…”

Suddenly, Cas is behind him, flush against his back and bare feet braced outside his boots. Dean grips the frame hard so he doesn’t panic and accidentally lean too far forward away from the warm body pressing against him from behind.

“I suppose you’ll have to trust me, Dean.”

Dean can only raggedly get out the next breath. He didn’t really think about what it meant for Cas to “take him flying.” An arm hooks around his stomach and he almost steps back.. but with Cas there.. there’s nowhere else to go. He looks down again, swallowing.

“Are you ready?”

“As I’ll ever be, I guess.”

He thinks they’ll lift off into the air or something and almost yells out when Cas pushes their bodies forward then kicks off the ledge so they’re falling straight down. For only a second, one bleary blink, the ground rushes towards his face. He has time to mentally repeat “shit shit shit shit” before they pull up out of the dive with a graceful swoop and then they’re steadily climbing higher.

Dean puffs out a hard breath. He feels slight pulls with their ascent, wings pushing down through the air to force them higher. All there is to see is a few dark houses and miles of tree tops. Castiel skims along them and they blur in a collection of deep green underneath him. The airs a little thinner now and colder this high up and he shivers. Cas’ other arm comes around high up and pulls him tighter against his chest then swoops lower. Despite the chill, Cas’ body always stays a burning warmth wherever it touches him.

This. Is. Fucking. Amazing.

Cas' wings push them easily through the night, alternating between gliding and diving smoothly. The angle and velocity Cas keeps ensures his legs never dangle. Their bodies are always close and Dean doesn’t worry about being dropped. His stomach does a flip flop like he’s on a rollercoaster. Smiling, he yells out with a surge of jubilance. They pass over cow pastures and fields, never close to town. For a moment, he kinda feels like Superman and stretches his arms out far, laughing. Though he can barely hear it, he can feel Cas laughing deeply behind him. Eventually, they head back towards familiar clusters of homes with happy sleeping families he knows.

Thankfully, there’s about two acres between the next closest house so no one sees their nighttime return. His house is still dark, window still wide open. This must be the view that Cas always gets coming to visit. His speed slows now and when they’re almost on top of the window, he brings them up short causing their bodies to pull back and fall forward.. no longer horizontal. Gusts of air blow the window's doors even wider and there's the incredible sound of large unseen wings beating. Cas touches down on the sill, letting him go. Dean shakily stumbles and is caught before he can trip. He’s pulled right up against Cas again, panting.

“Are you okay?” Cas waits for him to brace his arms on the frame and get steady.

“Yeah.” He gasps, a bit of awe in his voice but he doesn’t care. “It was.. wow. Thanks, Cas.”

He still hasn’t let Dean go, so he just continues breathing hard and staring ahead to see their melded shadows on his bedroom door across the room. It’s like he’s in a doorway between worlds.. half in his normal room with his normal life.. half out in the night and diving through the skies with Cas’ impossible world.

They stand there together.. the press of Cas’ chest to his back and leather pants against jeans until right up above his knees where Cas’ legs are wider apart. He’s weirdly more nervous now than he ever was in the air with fields racing below him. A warm hand slowly drags across his stomach then moves to grip along the window right below Dean’s hand, fingers barely touching. There’s a tension he doesn’t understand all of the sudden and he starts to freak when he seriously feels his jeans getting tighter and oh god why in hell is he fucking getting hard? It.. it must be the adrenaline from flying and.. and teenage guys get boners at the drop of a hat. It’s goddamn hormones. He silently wishes Cas would leave. If he waits and Dean has to turn around.. it’ll be painfully obvious and awkward again.

Cas leans close over his shoulder and Dean swallows the extra saliva in his mouth. What the hell is going on?

“Happy Birthday, Dean.” Cas says right into his ear, his deep voice making the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end.

With a quick whip of noise, he’s alone. Shakily, Dean steps down into his room and blinks out at the night before looking down in confusion.

+++ +++ +++ +++ +++ +++ +++ +++

Dean wakes up a few hours later when he feels the bed dip. He squints his sleepy eyes to see a dark figure sitting at the end of his bed.

“Cas?”

“What?”

Dean blinks, totally fucking awake now.

“Dad! Are you.. how ya feelin’?” He stutters.

“Fine. Who’s Cas?”

“No one.. I was dreaming or something.”

His dad sighs and hunches a little over. Dean sits up and turns on his bedside lamp.

“Do you need help? Want me to-“

“No. Look I’m sorry about today, Dean.” His dad is in his big gray bathrobe, but he can still see a bit of a large white patch of medical tape on his side.

“Don’t worry about it.” Dean doesn’t ask why he couldn’t wait till the weekend to go out hunting for deer.. why he had to go on his birthday because it seems petty with him all hurt in front of him. But he thinks it.

John brings up his arm and has a good sized knife in a brown leather sheath.

“This is a Bowie and I wouldn’t be giving it to you if I didn’t think you were mature enough to have it.” Dean slowly reaches across to take it but his father doesn’t let it go yet. “Now it isn’t to play with and show off to your friends. I’ll teach you a thing or two when I’m up for it but in the meantime.. keep it somewhere out of sight. Somewhere your mother or Sam isn’t gonna find it. Okay?”

“Yes, Sir.” Dean says, wide-eyed.

His father lets it go and Dean immediately slips it out of its holster to watch the moonlight glitter off the blade.

“Alright, now go back to bed.”

Dean reluctantly stows the knife between his mattress until he can find a better spot in the morning.

John frowns and opens his mouth like he’s going to say more but just cuffs Dean by the back of the neck and pulls him into a hug. Dean’s startled but returns it, gently, trying to avoid his wound.

“Happy Birthday, Son.”

_________________________________________________________________ 

Sister-Euryale's Fanart of Cas returning Dean from flying:

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did everyone enjoy Dean's birthday? I did. (o:`,
> 
> Fanart provided by the lovely [Sister Euryale](http://sister-euryale.tumblr.com)


	7. Firsts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I will once you give one to me.

Outside the next day, Dean is caught up in memories of Cas’ “gift.” Half of him is watching Sam play in his sandbox with a little plastic shovel; the other half is gliding through the brisk night sky, yelling out with joy over a field. He didn’t really expect to see Cas again anytime soon, but he still waits up at night. Just for a few hours. 

He doesn’t let his thoughts touch on.. It was normal, dammit! What with the excitement and danger and thrill of… Dean jerks his head as soon as he realizes he was thinking about it again.

Sam is busy making a sand castle that looks more like a sand hovel monstrosity when Dean hears it. 

Wings. 

He’s sure of it. The same sound that haunts him whether he’s asleep or daydreaming. Out in the woods that line their backyard. He checks that Sam is engrossed in his sand pile and walks towards it. 

It’s darker under the trees, the sunlight muffled. A few feet in whispers harshly, “Cas?” 

No one answers but there’s a crunch of dead leaves far to his right. He turns and walks a ways in that direction and calls again, “Cas, that you?” 

There a stillness that settles over the woods and it’s suddenly a bit eerie. 

“Dean!” His mother calls. 

He frowns one last time out at the shadowed trees and turns back towards his house. When he hears the same sound that drew him there, he whirls and searches behind him until his mom yells his full name.

Dean knows he’s in trouble as he emerges to see his mom with folded arms.

“I was just-“ he starts.

“Don’t you ever leave your brother like that!” 

He’s taken back by how upset she sounds and her tone stings.She bends down to grab Sam’s chubby hand and says, “C’mon baby, it’s time for some lunch.” 

Dean watches her knock sand off his pants and walk towards the house. 

“Mom..”

Mary turns back and looks close to tears. “You’re the big brother, Dean. I need to be able to trust you with him.”

Jesus, they’d been in the backyard. What the hell? Dean wallows in self-pity at the injustice of his mom’s overreaction for a while longer before walking into the kitchen. Mary sighs when she sees him come in and gets up to open the fridge. He sits down quietly at the table and hands Sam back his spoon that he threw on the floor. Mary places a piece of the peach pie in front of him.

“Sorry, Mom.” He says staring at the crust.

“I know. Eat your pie.”

+++ +++ +++ +++ +++ +++ +++ +++ +++

Weeks and weeks rolls by after his birthday and it doesn’t get any better. Dean can’t help getting lost in daydreams of flying. School is the worst. Castiel sure hasn’t done his grades any favors. He‘d already been grounded twice for crappy report cards. It was hard to pay attention to quadratic equations when he could zone out and remember what it looked like to be inches above the tree tops or feel your body cut through freaking clouds. Occasionally, he’ll settle on a memory of bare arms tight around his chest and stomach or.. the odd moment at the end that had his lower regions acting so stupid.. but he pushes those aside quickly.

Every night he stays up.. but Castiel hasn’t been back since. He missed just sitting up and talking half the night, ranting about anything and everything, occasionally being able to sneak Cas a hamburger and smirking at the look of sublime happiness that crossed his usually stoic face. Even the things he didn’t get, which were plenty, were fun to sit and explain. Once Cas had asked him to explain the plot of Mario, saying he didn’t understand why anthropomorphic reptiles were determined to capture a princess from plumbers. And then to explain what a plumber was. 

It’s hard to remember what it was like without having this special addition to an otherwise normal teenage life. Something that was all his. Something extraordinary. An angel wanted to spend time with him. Well did. When the weeks turn to months he has to face that Cas might not come back. The nighttime flight could have been a parting gift.. but Cas said he didn’t go to anyone else. Dean assumed that meant their friendship was.. special. Something at least. He deserved more than this, dammit.

What if he was dead? It could happen and he’d never know. Dean panics and starts to pray to him, concentrating like Cas said. Every night there after he repeats a short prayer asking, “Where are you?” and “Are you okay, Cas?” like a nightly ritual. He never comes.

One morning Mary places his eggs and bacon in front of him and asks, “Are you feeling, alright?”

“Sure, Mom.” Dean answers mechanically, breaking apart his bacon but no eating it.

“Nothing’s wrong?” She asks for the hundredth time it seems. 

“No, I’m fine.” He answers as he always does.

“Is Cas giving you a hard time, Son?’ His dad smirks, folding his newspaper down.

“What?!” Dean jerks his head up.

John laughs and Mary raises an eyebrow and puts her hands on her hips. 

“And just who is Cas?” 

At the exact same time, John says, “That’s what I’d like to know.” Dean says, “No one!” and Sam yells, “Thu-per Man!”

Goddammit, why did his dad have to remember that? Stupid. Stupid. Stup-

“Well whoever she is, Dean’s dreamin’ about her.” His dad sips his coffee as Dean feels his whole face turning red. He needs to get out of there. Now.

“Is Cas a girl at school, honey? That explains it.” She smiles and pats his hunched shoulders. 

God, kill him now.

“Young love.” She sighs exaggeratedly.

“Thu-per Man!” Sam says trying to contribute. “Uh huh,” his mother coos back placating.

Dean scoots his chair back abruptly and takes his full plate to the sink.

“Oh come on, Dean. We’re just teasing you.” Mary laughs as she grabs Sam’s balled fists that he’s started waving around while making excited “shoo shoo shoo” noises. She lowers them and hands him back his baby spoon for his oatmeal.

“I’m gonna be late for the bus.” He mutters, grabbing his backpack.

“Go get her.” His dad smiles and Dean rolls his eyes.

It all felt too real for a minute. His parents saying Cas’ freaking name. If they knew Cas was a boy.. well male angel.. whatever, that snuck into his room every once and a while.. and that the reason he was sulking is because he missed him.. and that he sometimes had reeeally inappropriate reactions around him. Well there was no good way to explain any of that. Jesus, he could just imagine the shit storm his dad would cause. Angel or no, Cas would be lucky to escape with all his feathers intact. Thinking of Cas as some kind of plucked chicken had Dean smiling for halfway to the bus stop, until he remembered that it wouldn’t be an issue. Because Cas didn’t appear to be coming back.

His friends notice. Benny tried the hardest to knock him out of his funk with jokes and invites out with them on the weekends but that stops after a while. He gets distance and sullen, withdrawing into himself. It was cold enough to be hoodie weather and during class he’d bury his face in his arms, hood up, and sleep, since he hardly could at night anymore. Amanda eventually got tired of his bad attitude and what she termed “being emo” and moved on to Brady. He sees them in the halls together but doesn’t really care too much. Then he felt worse because he didn’t care more.

Finally, Charlie of all people nudged him when he’s sleeping at a lunch table.

“Huh?” He picked up his head from his arms and wiped at the drool on his chin.

“What’s a matter, Winchester?” She says, sticking her bottom lip out ridiculously far.

“Nothing.” He mutters, pushing his tray of fries and chicken nuggets away further to make room for his folded arms on the table.

“Nothing doesn’t have you forgoing fries.” She pops two in her mouth.

He doesn’t respond except to sip his coke and rubs his face to wake up more. 

She screws up her mouth thoughtfully before saying “We should hang out today.” 

Dean’s eyebrows raise when he gives her an incredulous look. “You and me? 

“Yeah, why not? I can whip your ass at Mario. Have you found the secret pipe to World 8, yet?”

Honestly, he hadn’t been in the mood for videogames. Or anything. He just shakes his head. Fuck, he should come up with an excuse to get outta this. If she’s trying to flirt with him, he really wasn’t into it. Charlie’s cute and all but he always got more of a sisterly vibe from her.

“C’mon. You got a better offer?”

Crap, this was going to be weird.

“Um, okay.. I guess.” He yawns and takes another sip of carbonated goodness.

“Cool. I’ll bring the Doritos and Mountain Dew.”

Charlie offers to take him home so he can direct her to his house. She stops her beat up yellow Volkswagen Beetle at a convenient store on the way to pick up an adequate amount of junk food.

When he walks into the kitchen with Charlie in tow, his mom is facing away, hands in soapy dish water.

“Honey, try to be quiet. I just got Sam to- Oh!” She stops and beams at them. “Is this Cas?”

“Hi! I’m Charlie. Who’s Cas?” They both look at Dean.

“Geez, no one. C’mon Charlie. Mom, we’re gonna play Nintendo in my room, kay?”

“Door open, please!” She calls softly after them. Dean winces in embarrassment and ascends the stairs quickly. Charlie follows. Once upstairs, she dumps the junkfood in a pile on his bed while Dean tosses his bookbag in the corner.

Spinning around slowly, Charlie takes in his vintage rock posters before walking over to poke through his small book case. She picks up his dragon figure and it sends him an unexpected jab of sadness, reminding him of when Cas...

He shakes his head and belly flops across his bed. He feels Charlie come sit on the bed next to him.. almost exactly in Cas’ spot.

“So.. you wanna play?”

Dammit, he knew it. She’s too close and they’re both sitting on his bed..

Dean turns so he’s propping his head up with a hand. “Um, look Charlie. I really think you’re an awesome chick and all.. but.. uh..”

Charlie laughs and pushes him so he falls on his back. “Oh get over yourself, Dean. The only man I’m interested in is a vertically challenged, Italian stereotype.”

“Huh?”

“Mario. And just for that, you’re Luigi. Let’s go.”

Dean smiles and gets up to set the game to play. He’s about to sit down when what she said begins to sink in. He flashes on all the times he’s seen her joking with Gilda in homeroom.. what could be seen as flirting if you were looking for it. No. Stop. It’s none of his business.. but once the idea hits him he has to ask.

“So when you say the only man..”

Charlie raises an eyebrow, not helping him.

“You mean like.. You..”

“Don’t hurt yourself, Winchester.”

“You like girls?” He gets out quick.

“Oh, so since I’m not interested in you I have to be a lesbo?”

“What? No no.. geez sorry, I just thought.. nevermind.”

“Relax. I couldn’t resist. Yeah I’m more of a Leia girl but I can still appreciate Han’s bod.”

“Oh. Well that’s.. cool.”

“Are you gonna act weird now? No we don’t have pillow fights in our underwear. Can we move on now?”

Dean laughs awkwardly and hands her the rectangular control. “I’m devastated.”

They sit on pillows in front of the tv on the ground. While waiting for game to load, Charlie sees a book under his bed and pulls it out. “Fairytales?” she raises her eyebrows. “Didn’t pick this as the reading material you’d keep under here.” She smirks. 

“Oh, that was… that’s Sammy’s.” He grabs it and tosses it on the bed behind them. Truthfully, it’d been a book he’d been saving for Cas that he’d snuck out of Sam’s room. Sam had never been interested in it and Cas had loved the copy of Alice in Wonderland he’d had for his English Class analysis. He’d almost forgotten it was there.

The familiar cheery theme music begins and Dean presses START. 

They manage to get through three and a half worlds and a whole jar of French Onion dip by the time the sun goes down. 

“Man, for a girl you sure do eat like a linebacker.” He scoops out the last bit and pops the chip in his mouth.

Charlie glares at him before snatching his controller and tossing it past him. By the time he scrambles and has it back in his hands, he’s in lava.

“Oh no. You died.” She gives him a fake sympathetic face.

Dean reaches out to cover her eyes with an outstretched hand. She ducks but still falls in lava.

“Oh no. You too.” He mocks.

“Ugh, you ass!”

When Charlie pushes him to the side, he grabs a pillow and knocks her in the face with it.

“I refuse to pillow fight with you, Dean!”

Grinning he says, “What is it with you and pillow fights?”

She has time to roll her eyes before getting another smack to the face. “That’s it.” Charlie grabs the other pillow at her feet and yells, “For the Republic!” lunging and trying to smother him.

Dean’s laughing and out of breath, feeling better than he has in weeks. Months even. So of course right when he has Charlie in a headlock, he catches something out of the corner of his eye. He lets her go as he turns to see.. Cas. Just there. One foot on his windowsill, one hand on the frame, half in and half out of his room. Same dark brown leather pants, black sleeveless shirt, barefeet and wild hair like he didn’t even know what a brush was. Their eyes lock over Charlie’s shoulder. She’s pink-faced and trying to regain her breath too. “Draw?”

Without a flicker of emotion crossing his face, Cas turns away. Goddammit. Why now?

“Wait!” He yells out before he can stop himself. 

Charlie jumps. “What?” Seeing him staring at the window past her, she turns around. The window’s empty.

“Sorry.” He says still staring at the place an angel had been just a second ago.

His mom comes up right after that, no doubt in result of all the noise they made wrestling around and casually asks if Charlie would be staying for dinner.

Dean stutters, “Uh..”

“No thanks, Mrs. Winchester. I have to get back to my mom.” She smiles tightly but Dean’s preoccupied and quickly says, “I’ll walk you out.”

Mary smiles broadly with pride. “It was so nice to meet you, Charlie.”

Charlie winks at Dean, further cementing the idea in his mom’s head that she was his girlfriend or something.

As soon as her Bug backs out of his yard, he only spares a second to wave before he immediately starts whispering, “Cas!”

He walks along the house until he’s in the backyard. “Cas! You out here?!”

When he hears the familiar rustle of feathers he whips around to see Castiel rigidly watching him.

“Cas!” He walks towards him smiling and before he realizes it, grabs him in a hug. “Damn, it’s good to see you!” The angel doesn’t return the embrace but stays stiff in his arms. They probably weren’t huggers. But then neither was he usually.

He pulls back and ignores the blank-face he gets when he notices a long angry scratch from just below the silver cuff on his arm to past his elbow.

“Christ, what happened to you? Can’t you heal that?” Dean says as he reaches out to trace it lightly.

Cas presses his lips and frowns. “Please stop touching me, Dean.”

“What? Oh. Sorry.” He drops his hand to his side.

“Why have you been praying to me?” Cas says in curt tone.

Dean bunches his eyebrows. “What do you mean why? I haven’t heard so much as a flutter from you in months. I thought you were dead or..” 

Judging from this greeting, maybe he’d been right. Maybe Cas just didn’t want to visit him again. Did he not even plan to tell him?

Cas tilts his head like he does.. or did so often. “Was that the one who leave the marks?”

“Huh?” Marks… Oh, hickeys. “Is that what has your panties in a bunch?”

Dean’s back hits hard against the wall of his house when Cas shoves him, following so he traps his body. 

“I would rather not watch you fornicate," Cas bites off from two inches away.

Where the fuck was this coming from? Dean blinks and wets his lips to remember what he wanted to say. Cas’ fingers are twisted in his flannel shirt as he crowds his body with his own. Dean’s wide green eyes can’t look away from the pissed off angel’s glare. A quick thrill of excitement runs through him.

“Cas..” He breathes slowly. “That wasn’t her. She’s makin’ marks on someone else now.” Dean tries to joke to break the tension.

His jaw doesn’t unclench so he keeps going. “That was a friend. Charlie. And.. well let’s just say I’m not her type.”

Cas’ expression is unsure now but still full of distrust. “But you were..”

“Playing. Horsin’ around? Trust me, I have the wrong equipment.” When he just seems more confused than ever, Dean rolls his eyes. “She’s gay, dude. Um.. likes marking girls instead?”

The fingers release him and Cas takes a step back. Dean can finally breath and nervously stretches out his shirt, straightening the wrinkles.

“Is that common for humans.. favoring relations with the same gender?”

“Um, well I don’t know. Sometimes?”

“Dean!” His dad’s voice yells from the other side of the house. He must have just got home.

“Shit, I gotta go. Will you come back? Just give me like an hour okay?” 

Cas looks torn but when Dean quickly whispers “Please, Cas?!” He answers, “Okay.”

“Dean!” His dad yells again.

“Yeah!” Dean calls, smiling as he walks backwards. “Alright, see ya soon.” Cas nods.

At the dinner table, Dean shoves meatloaf and mashed potatoes into his mouth with a gusto he hasn’t possessed in a while. His parents smile at each other.

“So Charlie seemed nice.” Mary grins, knowingly.

“Charlie?” John asks.

“Dean’s friend he had over before you got home.” Mary mouths “a girl.”

“Charlie, huh? Cas, Charlie.. Why can’t you find a girl with a nice normal name like Jessica or Ashley?”

“John, stop.” Mary warns, giving him a look.

“He knows I’m joking.” His dad goes back to spearing off a bite of meatloaf. “So tell us about her.” 

Dean knows he could never tell his dad about Charlie. Not really. Definitely not why she wouldn’t be a prospective girlfriend so he doesn’t even try. 

“She’s just a friend from school. Can I be excused?”

“Not until we’re done and you help your mother with the dishes.”

Dean has to wait an excruciatingly long time until everyone finishes, dishes are done, and Sam’s cleaned up before he can run up to his room. When he sees Cas isn’t there, he grabs plaid pajama bottoms, boxers and a tshirt and rushes back out to the bathroom. Taking the quickest shower ever and ignoring his half-hard erection, he’s back in his room with brushed teeth and damp hair dripping in his eyes in less than 5 minutes.

“That was longer than an hour.” Cas says, sitting on the windowseat.

Dean gets a flood of relief and walks over to him. The moonlight shines off the cuff on his bicep, drawing attention to the ugly wound again. 

“Are you okay?”

“Yes.” Cas doesn’t even glance at where Dean’s gesturing.

“Then.. what-“

“I was injured.”

“Oh, so that’s why you were so long.”

“No. I could have come.”

“What the hell, man? Were you even gonna say goodbye? I thought we were friends.” Dean paces angrily.

Cas just watches him.

“Say something, you Son of a bitch!”

Looking down at his hands, Cas says, “I have been told to cease my visitations to you.”

“What? By who?”

When Cas doesn’t answer Dean sighs. “Okay, why?” 

“I’m supposed to be observing until I reach maturity. I shouldn’t be pulled into undo interactions with humanity..” He flicks his eyes up and finishes, “you.” 

“That’s bullshit, Cas.”

“Training to fight should be my main concern. Any preoccupations will impair my focus and I was allowing myself to become distracted.” He recites like it’s from a memorized speech.

“Dammit, Cas. If you don’t wanna come anymore fine but if it’s to appease some douchebag with wings then..”

“Stop, Dean. I want to spend what time I’ve sequestered on more pleasant topics.”

“Fine.,” Dean breathes through his nose, willing himself to let go of the last few months of worry and dejection. If this is one of the few times he might ever see him again, there’s no use making it a bad memory. “I got you something anyway.” 

Dean walks towards the bed and crawls up to grab the book of fairytales. Cas followed, hopping up to walk along the footboard rail before taking his usual spot.

Several minutes later, he wishes he didn’t give it to him because it’s clear Cas is engrossed in it. He doesn’t flip around like he normally does but just sits reading. Almost normal.

Dean tries to not be annoyed and just enjoy the fact that he had his friend here, for what time they had. Fifteen minutes later and Dean’s periodic check to see if he’s still reading is met with a steady blue stare.

“What?”

“Dean, would you give me a kiss?”

His mouth falls open a bit, sure he heard wrong.

“Uh.. what?” He says again, stupidly.

“In this story, a curse on the kingdom is broken by a kiss. I’ve read about them in the poetry of your English schoolbook as well, but they are never adequately described."

“Um..”

“Would you give me one, please?” He asks as if it’s simple.

“Cas, I can’t just..” How does he explain this? He can feel his ears getting red. “I mean, how do you not know what a kiss is?” 

The angel looks irritated now. “I will once you give me one,” he says indignantly.

“Cas, I’m a guy..”

“I am aware of that.” He furrows his brow.

“And you.. well you’re a guy, kinda..”

“I don’t understand why you are stating the obvious.”

“Dudes don’t um.. do that. Well some do, but uh I don’t. And besides you usually kiss someone you like..” God this was awkward and Cas is just looking at him confused and maybe hurt. And this was probably going to be the last time he’d see him.

“Because I am male and you don’t like me, it would be inappropriate?”

“No, come on, it’s not like that. Of course I like you.” Dean sighs exasperated. “Don’t you have angel girls you can practice with?”

Cas just frowns at him. 

They would be like his sisters so probably not. Well.. there’s no one here to tell him not to and Cas is his friend who never asked him for anything in all the times he’d come. Dean had made out with several willing girls already, even gone a bit further and it was kinda sad Cas didn’t even seem to know what a kiss was. And if he didn’t mind that Dean was a guy.. well he could do this for him. Probably.

“Alright, just this once.” He says quick before he fully processes the words. “And we never talk about it.”

“I understand.”

“I mean never, ever.”

“I said I understand, Dean.”

“Okay.” Dean sucks in a breath. “Right, okay.” He says again. So now he was supposed to do it. He looks at Cas’ dark short hair sticking up everywhere, cheeks with light stubble and finally his pink dry lips. Turning to face him fully, Dean mirrors his crossed legs. Slowly, he puts his palms on the bed and leans forward.

“Dean?”

“Shh. Don’t say anything.” If they talked about it, he’d freak. But Cas obediently stays quiet.. watching him move ever closer, hands resting on his own knees, patiently. Dean flicks his eyes over Cas’ mouth then up to his blinking eyes, looking for any hesitation but Cas just waits for him. 

Their lips touch. Light. Soft. Cas gasps and he immediately pulls back to see wide blue eyes. Dean licks his lips, kinda nervous. 

“That was a kiss?”

‘Well yeah. A little one. What’d ya think?”

“I don’t know.”

Dean frowns. “What do you mean you don’t know?”

“It’s just- just touching mouths. Why are there songs and sonnets and stories written about it?”

“Oh so my kiss wasn’t good enough for a sonnet or some shit? How many times Shakespeare offered to plant one on ya?” Dean rubs the back of his neck, annoyed and not really sure where the anger was coming from.

“You are offended. I apologize. I merely meant I don’t see what-“

Dean grabs his face in both hands and fuses their mouths together hard. Cas stills but doesn’t pull away as Dean focuses on blowing his stupid little angelic mind, catching his lips over and over again.. even changing up the angle mid kiss. Rough cheeks scratch under his fingers so he can’t pretend it’s the soft plump cheeks of a girl but he grips them tighter to turn his head where he wants it. When Cas opens his mouth to make an involuntary noise, Dean surges forward to force his tongue past those pink lips. Cas lets out a surprised moan and his hand comes up to cover one of Dean’s at the side of his face. Dean smirks as Cas tentatively rubs his tongue against Dean’s for a moment and decides to pulls back after what he feels is sufficiently hot to defend his honor. 

Dean lets go of Cas’ face to drop his hands back at his sides on the mattress. Their lips break apart only long enough for him to grab a breath. He has a cocky comment all ready but then hands are on his bent knees and Cas is leaning into him, taking over. He shifts back but Cas just follows. Now Dean’s the one making a ridiculous sound in the back of his throat at the dizzy feeling spinning his head and he could swear he feels a small electric zing buzzing through him. Cas uses all his tricks back on him and well. It’s too hot all of the sudden and he’s so caught up with his body telling him all systems go that he doesn’t realize his elbows are bent, giving ground, until his back hits pillow. 

He snaps out of his fog and pushes against a hard chest. The weight on him disappears as they separate. Cas slowly moves back to his original position and Dean sits up grabbing a pillow to cover his lap. They both pant across from each other. Dean looks at the bedspread, Cas, the floor, Cas, his hands, then back at Cas again. His face is infuriatingly blank as he watches Dean, eyes a bit bright.

He realizes he’s been staring at Cas’ puffy lips, slick with Dean’s saliva when he finally deadpans, “I’ll write you a sonnet, if necessary.” 

He’s shocked into laughing and the tension breaks. 

“Though it seems much more vigorous than-“ Cas cuts himself off, turning away from his eyes but Dean caught it. 

“You’ve seen people kissing?”

“You said we were not to speak of it so I will let you rest now.” He gets up and walks towards the window.

“Dude! You totally played me. Are you telling me you knew what a kiss was all along?”

Cas looks at the ceiling and breaths out before turning back. “I might have over-exaggerated my ignorance but I wanted to experience it myself. Thank you for the instruction, Dean.”

“Wait a goddamn minute.. Cas!” But he already dropped out through the window.

Bastard! He mutters but continues to stare at the window. Removing the pillow, he sees he’s still hard as a rock. Pressing a heel against it, he almost cries out. Glancing at the open window again, Dean gets up to check and make sure Cas is gone, then closes the doors. Striding back to bed, he gets under the covers and pulls his cock out. Spitting in his hand, he grips it tight, pumping down fast and rough. Within a minute, he’s spurting cum out over his fingers and the sheets. 

Panting hard, he stares up at the ceiling, heart racing. 

“Shit..” Dean breathes softly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I'm managing to get my chapters a bit longer. Yay! Thanks for my comments guys. I love hearing your thoughts. So obviously I'm starting to earn my Explicit tag. If you don't want your childhood memories further sullied with my debauched Peter Pan AU.. I would turn back now. >:)


	8. Pretend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It is just pretend, isn't it?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Put down your pitchforks. I know I made you wait for it but ooh look it's extra long. Forgive me?

Dean’s eyes are on the white board as his elderly teacher continues writing out an impossibly long string of numbers that he’s sure is supposed to mean something but damned if he knew what. It becomes a blurry background as he loses his focus for about the 8th time that class.

It didn’t mean anything. It was natural to get turned on by making out. With your eyes closed.. it doesn’t matter. 

He remembers the second Cas had taken charge of it and started pressing back. Confident and overwhelmingly intense. Damn if he didn’t catch on quick. 

The teacher turns to face the class, droning on about the equation as Dean chews a pencil.

It was normal. With your eyes closed.. its all the same. Like if he was getting a blow job.. eyes shut it all probably felt the same.

He drops the pencil and it rolls off his desk. Dean looks around self-consciously like someone could hear his thoughts. 

Whoa, where the hell had that come from? And now he can’t not see Cas’ head bent over his lap.. hair all disheveled from the wind.. or maybe from fingers grabbing it.. and pink lips all puffy and his soft, warm tongue..

The bell rings and Dean jumps. Kids file out and he slowly gets to his feet.

Pamela holds out his pencil. “Do quadratic equations turn ya on, baby?”

“Huh?” He takes it and puts it behind his ear.

She licks her lips and pointedly glances at his slightly tented jeans.

“Shit.” He breathes and quickly moves his books to cover his erection.

Smiling like the cat that ate the canary, she says, “Heard you and Barbie are splitsville? Since I dumped that ass, Jesse, I’ve been awfully lonely.”

Dean eyes her up and down. Tight Ramones tank top, faded black jeans and belt with pyramid studs.. she’d probably eat him alive. “Oh, yeah?” This was not exactly the time he wanted to have this talk with his boner already on display. 

“Come find me if you wanna hang out sometime.. we could talk fractions and decimal points.” She waggles her eyebrows suggestively before brushing past him, making sure to take extra long. Dean inhales, trying to keep any part of him from touching her further. Breathing out raggedly, he heads to lunch.

Walking through the courtyard, he sees Charlie sitting under a tree eating a sandwich. Dean changes his direction and heads her way. 

“Hey.”

“Sup Winchester. How goes it?” 

“You mind company?”

“My tree is your tree.”

He sits down beside her. “Want half a PB&J?”

“Sure. Thanks.” He takes it and they eat, enjoying the sun with the cooler air making it nice out.

Dean clears his throat and says, “So..Just slap me if this is off limits..”

“Oh, I get to slap you? You live dangerously.” She turns to him smiling.

Dean rolls his eyes. “When did you know?”

“Know what?”

“That you were..”

“C’mon use your big boy words.” She grins taking another bite.

“That you were into girls.”

“Since I was 8 and saw Return of the Jedi.”

Dean eyebrows pinch together.

“Slave Leia in a gold bikini.”

“Oh right.” He glances down at his last bite of sandwich. Charlie watches him over her can of diet coke before taking a sip. 

“But ya know.. I bet most people take longer.”

Dean twists his lips and nods. “And you don’t ever look twice at guys?”

“Well.. I mean if Johnny Depp came up to me and just had to have his way with me.. I probably wouldn’t turn him down but otherwise not really.”

“How’d your mom take it?”

“She.. Fine.” 

Dean’s seen a lot of Charlie’s smiles but this one didn’t seem right. “She just-“

“So anyway who’s this Cas?” Charlie talks over him quickly. Dean stutters, “Who?”

“Your mom thought I was someone named Cas. Is that like.. a friend?”

“Yeah, he’s a friend.”

“Oh.” She nods her head with raised eyebrows and wide eyes.

“What?” Even to him it sounds defensive.

“Nothing. So you wanna try to make it to World 5 in Mario later?”

“Uh, sure. Are you gonna cheat again?”

“It’s entirely possible.”

Dean’s rushing to World History when he turns a corner and runs straight into a solid wall in the shape of a suit. Shuffling back, he sees it’s actually a man with a barrel chest. Bald, Black and looking down his nose at him. 

“Dean Winchester.”

“Uh, yeah?” 

Was this a new teacher? Why did he know his name?

Suddenly, he’s grabbed by the collar of his shirt and slammed into a set of lockers. Dean winces when his head hits.

“You will stop encouraging Castiel.”

“What?! Who the hell are you?”

Kids laugh and rush by, seeming not to notice their little scene.

“Watch your tone, Mud Monkey. I’m the one who’s going to turn you into dust if you continue your association with the angel.”

A locks digs into his back. He’d scream but Dean can’t get a breath with the beefy hand around his throat squeezing. He squirms futilely trying to draw attention but no one even pauses as they pass them. 

“I suggest you be a good little Neanderthal and heed my words.” 

He’s pulled forward by the neck just to be slammed back-

Dean jerks in his seat, making a short yell and the class laughs.

“Bad dream, Mr. Winchester?” His World History teacher says smoothly.

Blinking and realizing where he is, Dean tries to make a joke to cover his embarrassment. “The worst. I was in World History and.. Oh wait.”

After the class calms down, the teacher says, “Very amusing. Perhaps you can tell your jokes to the principle after class.”

Dean internally groans and sinks down in his seat. Awesome.

He gets a detention and catches Charlie after the bell to let her know he won’t be able to meet up. When he gets home, his mom predictably grounds him and Dean sulks in his room most of the evening. 

It’s late and he’s doing English homework, books open on the bed, when Cas steps down off his windowseat.

“Uh, Hey.” He looks up, surprised to see him again so soon or even at all.

“Hello, Dean.” Cas comes towards him and then is just sitting on the bed across from him. Like nothing happened. 

Fuck. He really wasn’t expecting to have to deal with seeing him again today. 

“Weren’t you ordered away or something?” He catches a snippet of his weird dream for a second but lets it go when Cas positively smirks and says, “I was. I am being disobedient.”

Dean’s eyebrows raise and he ignores the pulse in his jeans. Cas almost looks mischievous. 

“Ain’t that gonna get you in trouble?”

He just shrugs and picks up Dean’s English book, turning it towards him.

Seriously, they were just going to sit here and not talk about it. Which is good. Right. Don’t say anything. Stop thinking about it. It was a one time thing. Cas was just curious and Dean.. helped. Why should it be weird now? Cas looked the same. Acted the same. Stop thinking about it.

He dragged his eyes from Cas’ mouth to his arm. The nasty slice seemed to be closing and healing over even though it had only been a day.

“So your uh wound looks better.” His arm was up and hovering between them before he remembered last time.

“You can touch me, if you want.”

Dean traces it with his finger tip. It’s less ragged than before.

“Why can’t you just heal it?”

“It was made with a weapon I am not impervious to.”

“What happened?”

“Dean..”

“Who am I gonna tell?”

“It’s for your own protection.”

“Yeah, whatever.”

Dean takes back his English book and turns it around to fake reading it. They’re quiet for a while until Cas says, “I’ve never had a friend before, Dean.” He lowers the book to see Cas is not facing him. “I would not want to place you in danger. I have only ever had my brothers and sisters. Rarely among my own kind have I found those I share an affinity with. And after..” His eyebrows wedge together and he takes a deep breath. “After Anna..” He doesn’t say anything else and after another minute Dean sets the book next to him and scoots a little closer.

“Cas, who’s Anna?”

He doesn’t answer, just continues to stare off to the left.

“She the one who left?”

“Yes.” One word but it’s filled with worlds of loss. “After that.. I didn’t.. I never.. I’m not very good at communicating.”

It was plain weird to see him fumbling like this. So unsure.

“You do all right.” Dean gives him a small smile when Cas looks up to meet his eyes.

“It is strange that I am able to connect with a human better than my own brethren.”

“Eh, you just can’t resist the Winchester Charm.” He laughs cockily, but Cas only stares until the moment stretches and his words hang in the air. Soon he’s staring at Cas’ mouth and remembering when his lips were swollen and slick. It’s too much to be sitting on his bed like this.. just like last night. He’s starting to feel flustered. Restless. Itchy.

“Hey, you wanna get outta here?”

“You want me to leave?”

“No, I mean.. I’d go with you.”

“Where would you want to go?”

“Anywhere. Just outside somewhere. Get some fresh air.”

“There is a clearing not far from here in the woods.”

“Awesome.”

Dean gets up and slips into his boots. After bending to lace them up, he goes to grab his flannel from his closet. Cas is behind him, too close and Dean immediately backs up, facing him.

“Oh uh, I’ll just sneak out downstairs.”

“You do not want to fly?”

Fly, yes. Have Cas pressed tight against him…

“Dean, I’ll still need to take you to the clearing. It’s too great a distance for you to walk.”

Dammit. Why had he thought this would be better? He just needed to get outside where he could breathe. Where he could think.

“Yeah alright.“ He sighs and steps up on the sill, bracing his arms on the frame. Dean closes his eyes when arms encircle his torso and Cas doesn’t hesitate or ask if he’s ready this time. He pushes forward and they’re off.  
Soon Dean forgets about feeling awkward and just revels in the cool night air beating at his face. Within minutes his feet are touching earth and Cas lets him go, stepping back to sit cross-legged in the grass. That wasn’t so bad.. maybe he was the one making it weird.

“Is this adequate?” 

“Yeah, this works.” He sits near the angel with his legs stretched out, arms straight a little behind his back to bare his weight.

The sky was wide and went on forever above them. You could see thousands and thousands of lights, burning little pinpricks. Breeze ruffles the leaves and Dean sits up to fold his arms. Cas doesn’t even react, even with his arms bare and stark pale in the moonlight and feet buried in the cool grass.

“You guys don’t get cold either?”

Cas turns and frowns at his hunched posture. He leans forward and Dean jerks back thinking he’s going to try and kiss him again but instead he’s surrounded by a familiar softness. Even over the barrier of his sleeves, it’s a light weight encircling him. The wind abruptly cuts off, as if there’s a force field around his body. He’s actually warm now but he still shivers when the phantom feathers cocooning him touch the back of his neck. Dean enjoys the pleasant sensation of being wrapped up in a soft bubble for a few more seconds before shrugging his shoulders. 

“Thanks but um.. just keep your wings to yourself, kay?”

Cas rolls his shoulders and the warmth leaves him, but he still tingles where they touched his cheek and neck. Hearing the shuffle of invisible wings, Dean asks, “Hey Cas, can I see you fly? I mean, you’re always just there. I wanna see..” He looks up and realized he moved closer when he was talking. “Nevermind.”

Cas cocks his head and they just stare for what feels like too long. Yep, this was way better, Dean thought sarcastically. 

Without a word, Cas gets to his feet. Sparing a moment to glance down at Dean, he then points his face up at the stars and bends his knees like he’s about to jump but when he kicks off the ground.. his bare feet don’t land again. 

Dean watches open mouthed as Cas glides lithely through the air, climbing higher and higher only to arch his back and dive backwards. Down he plummets right at him before swooping so close that Dean feels feathers touch his ear when he flies by. 

“Whoa..” Dean’s mouth falls open.

If he squints he can almost imagine he sees darks shapes pushing him forward or maybe it’s his brain filling in the missing piece for him. Cas’ back muscles and shoulder blades work and roll in a way he’s not used to seeing on any human. After a few more minutes of what Dean’s sure is showing off at this point, Cas’ feet touch the ground and he walks a few feet before he can slow his momentum to stop in front of him again. 

Dean gapes up at him with wide eyes as he breathes slow and even out.

“You watch me as if this is some feat but I assure you it is not.”

“Cas, no. You’re fucking amazing.”

Cas just holds his gaze until Dean blushes and looks off. “Really, though. You’re all graceful and shit.” Laughing, he finishes, “I’d make a sucky angel. Probably bump into my window like a fly.”

“I think you would be a beautiful angel.”

Dean grins but rolls his eyes. “Dudes don’t call each other beautiful, Cas.. but thanks.”

He’s focused on him with such intensity.. not saying anything else so Dean gets to his feet, talking nervously to fill the silence.

“So you’re training or whatever all the time, right? Teach me a move or something.”

Castiel seems taken back and says, “We use blades made of grace to spar. You would not be able to fight as we do.”

“You started off trying to stick each other? That’s one hell of a learning curve.”

Cas’ bunched eyebrows smooth and he says, “When I was younger, my brothers would make a game of attempting to subdue one another as practice. I could show you how to attack as they did.”

“Okay, what’ll we do?”

“They would engage in combat mid-air. The first to be grounded and say Tootsie Pop was the defeated.”

Dean’s still laughing when he asks, “Tootsie Pop?”

“It is my brother’s rule. I don’t know what it means.”

“It’s candy. I’ll bring you one. Alright, well no flying. That’s cheating.”

“But that is how I would fight, Dean. I would never allow myself to be weakened by staying in one place while an enemy attacks me.”

“Yeah well pretend your pixie dust ran out and you’re stuck on the ground.”

Cas frowns but stays put, toes curling in the grass. “First, you must always be moving.”

Dean starts walking backwards as the angel moves towards him.

“Hold up. Obviously I won’t be able to take you on in a straight fight.”

Cas pauses. “What do you suggest, then?”

“My watch has a stopwatch button. Maybe.. see if I can keep on my feet for five minutes?”

“Very well.” 

Looking up from hitting the clock, Dean winces at the glint in his eye. “You’re gonna knock me on my ass, aren’t you?”

“Only if you let me.” Cas says beginning to walk forward again. Dean’s heartbeat picks up and he watches him as he moves backwards again.

“Sparring, we are taught never to allow an opponent to entrap or surround us. Try to shove me away from you to keep your distance. If I am able to get too close, you would be defeated. My wings can wrap tight to hold you in place or my flight feathers can lacerate deep if the edges are whipped hard enough.”

Feeling a brush against his cheek, Dean bats it away with the back of his hand. Cas smirks at him as he takes a few threatening steps closer. Dean quickly focuses on keeping space between them again. 

“Man, this is a kinda like when Yoda-“

Cas strikes quick, grabbing him by the wrist and turning so his own arm is painfully twisted in front of him and his back is up against a hard chest.

“Pay attention.” Cas says in his ear from behind him, amusement evident in his voice.

Breathing unsteady, Dean grunts as he elbows him, spinning away at the same time.

Cas lets him and calmly starts to circle him. Dean keeps him in his sights, turning with him. Cas is playing with him, hardly looking at him. His heart is hammering in his chest but he’s pretty sure he’s about to win this thing by running out the clock.

Dean makes the mistake of checking his watch to see he still has a minute left when Cas snatches his arm and kicks his feet out from under him. Cas has a knee on his chest and simply waits.

“You know what to say.” He seems positively smug.

Cas has him on the ground but Dean’s strong too. He grips his upper arms and pushes up to force Cas off to fall next to him. They roll a few times but Cas still ends up on top sitting on his thighs. Dean grunts and struggles as Cas manages to knock his hands away easily and get them pinned to the grass by his head. 

Staring up at his steady blue eyes, they gasp for breath and with horror, Dean realizes during all the wrestling around.. he’s gotten hard. Cas has to feel it and is probably disgusted if he even realizes what it is.

“Tootsie pop,“ Dean pants.

Cas only tilts his head just a fraction.

“I said Tootsie-“

He’s cut off by Cas’ lips catching his. Dean’s surprise is overwhelmed by the talented tongue sweeping in to brush with his over and over again. Shit, he was a quick learner. Cas moves down to suck and nip at his bottom lip.. something Dean hadn’t taught him. 

Lost in the moment, Dean lifts his head up, trying to reconnect their mouths when Cas pulls back to ask, “How do I make the marks?” before kissing him again. The words don’t even make sense to Dean’s foggy brain. Could he have been kissed stupid?

“Huh?” 

“The marks. Have you made them before? Would you show me, Dean?” Cas asks on his hands and knees above him, caging his body. His palms are in the grass by Dean’s head.. which means he’s free. Has been, he realizes. Cas had long since let go of his wrists but Dean had kept his arms as if they’d still been pinned. He can move now. He has to move now. Move, dammit.

Dean snaps out of his haze and sucks in a breath.

“Cas, this is wrong.” He sits up on elbows first and then scoots back along the grass until he’s sitting across from him. Cas just watches.

“Why?”

Why? Christ, he’s so turned on it’s hard to think.

“We can’t just keep doing this. That was a one time thing.”

“I find kissing you to be very pleasurable and I’m told this is natural.”

That’s what he’d been telling himself all day.. but it wasn’t natural. This wasn’t normal. Not for him anyway. Dean huffs, realizing his pants are tented and shifts around so he’s facing away, embarrassed by his arousal and the conversation. 

“Dean?”

“Just give me a goddamn minute, okay?” He barks, covering his front with a hand, waiting for his erection to go down.

“Why would you be ashamed of what is a normal bodily function for humans?”

Dean glares over his shoulder. “Oh don’t go saying humans like you don’t have wood either.”

Cas frowns in confusion.

“You’re..” he gestures vaguely towards Cas’ groin. “..hard.”

Cas looks down then back up to meet his eyes steadily. “I haven’t said I was otherwise.” He blinks and blushes when he realizes he’d been staring at the criss-cross of black cord and Cas was just letting him. Dean turns away again so he stops looking towards the bulge straining tight in leather. 

Jesus. This is crazy. And stupid. Crazy, stupid and fucked up but it’s been months since he’d been all hot n’ heavy with anyone, besides Cas the previous night, and with the kiss still so fresh..

Dean mentally shakes himself. He’s just worked up.

“You can’t kiss me anymore, okay? And I definitely can’t freaking mark you or whatever. Kisses, hickeys.. all on the let’s never go there again list. Got it?”

Cas furrows his brow and presses his lips but Dean has to get it all out so he understands. 

“Look, this is stuff people who.. it’s personal and.. Can’t we just go back to how it was before?”

Castiel turns away from him with one arm hooked around a bent leg. “My apologizes if I made you uncomfortable. I mistakenly believed you enjoyed kissing me as well.”

Dean doesn’t correct him but looks down guiltily. 

“And I will attempt to find another human to educate me on the other matter.”

“Cool yeah, it’s just- wait what?”

Cas is racking his fingers through the grass, still not facing him. “My brother assures me I am not unappealing to your kind and would be able to find an enthusiastic human to show me these things.”

That.. irritates him. Which is dumb since it should be exactly what he wants. 

“Aren’t you supposed to be observing or some shit? Why would your bro give you this pro human pep talk?” Dean air quotes observing with sarcasm.

“A few of my brothers have less conventional views on interacting with humanity. While my exchanges have been limited, I have no doubt I will be successful in finding a willing partner.”

“Oh.” Dean frowns hard at the ground.

After neither of them speaks for a while, Cas turns back suddenly and asks, “How is your friend, Charlie?”

“Um.. fine.. so when you say you’re gonna go find a human..”

“Yes, Dean?”

“Well I mean isn’t that a little less than angelic. Trolling for chicks and-“

“I am reasonably certain I would prefer a male human for this purpose.”

“Right..” Dean breathes out. Well that wasn’t totally unexpected. Then he suddenly can’t get a slide show of sordid images out of his head.. Cas in an alley behind a club with some twink guy in eyeliner and tight jeans being all aggressive with him. Would Cas want someone like that? It leaves a bad taste in his mouth and he’s flat not paying attention when he asks about Sam or something.

Dean interrupts him mid sentence with, “Look, Cas if you just want someone to show you..” He trails off not knowing how to finish. Cas stops and raises his eyebrows. “I mean, I don’t want you to have to go somewhere else and get hurt or something.” Who else would get Cas’ odd ways and be as patient. 

He gets a condescending look. “I’m an angel, Dean. A mere human would not be able to harm me.”

Dean chews on his lip, irked by this blurry mental creation of some guy corrupting Cas. Taking advantage of his naiveté and.. 

“Yeah well I don’t want you to.. to have to go to someone you don’t know. We’re friends and if all you want is for me to give you a hickey..” Never would he have thought he’d be sitting here with sweaty palms offering to suck on another dude’s neck.

“Are you sure?”

What would it take.. a minute, two tops? Without kissing it was just sucking on someone’s neck. It’d probably be awkward as hell and he’d feel a little ridiculous but without making out, it wouldn’t be all hot. He’d just do it fast so Cas would get the gist of it. 

Cas’ eyes dart over his face.. he’s probably red as a tomato.. before asking, “Can you not pretend that I am her? The one that previously left your marks.. just to show me?”

It wasn’t the worst idea and his dick sure wasn’t objecting. Yeah he’d just close his eyes and imagine Amanda.

He swallows and says, “You’d be up for that?” 

“I wouldn’t mind if it would make you more comfortable.” He crawls back towards Dean who puts out a hand on his chest to stop him. Cas waits for Dean to decide.

Finally, Dean lowers his hand and gruffly gets out, “Just so you can learn..” He exhales a little shakily. This felt like an excuse, like an out. His cock is throbbing now, but he tries to ignore it.

In truth, Amanda never liked him leaving hickeys because she said she didn’t want to look like a leopard for three days. Though on him she sure didn’t mind.

Dean scoots forward on the grass as Cas slides that little bit closer to sit next to him, facing the other way. Almost hip to hip. 

Then he just waits.

“Um okay..” 

Stop talking. Jesus. Should he just start? Just.. attack his neck? At school in the supply closet it usually came after lots of kissing first but he’s not even gonna touch that idea. That was too intimate and too real.

Dean takes a breath and dips his head towards Cas’ neck, trying not to touch him anywhere else. He opens his mouth and closes his lips over the hollow there and Cas shudders a second. Feeling skittish, he pauses but hears, “Please continue.” 

Dean does. Before he can stop himself he says, “God, you’re so freaking warm.” He burrows into his neck to tongue over where his pulse is beating quick. And hey angels have pulses. Well if they got boners, they must have blood pumping and.. Stop thinking! Gripping his chin, Dean turns his head away to give himself more space. He starts sucking a little when he licks now. Cas inhales sharply but doesn’t otherwise move. Dean’s tongue suddenly tingles a little when it touches skin like he’s licked an outlet or something. He pulls back and licks his lips. 

Cas turns to him. “Did you do it already?”

“What? Oh, lemme see.”

Cas faces away again to bare his neck. Moonlight hits it to show a faint redness and saliva but that’s it.

“Nothin’ yet.”

“Please continue then, Dean.”

“Alright but it’s kinda awkward like this.” 

Without getting into Cas’ lap he couldn’t exactly get a good angle. And that was so not happening. His back was starting to ache from bending.

“What do you suggest?”

Dean looks past him and gets up. “Maybe standing?” He points to a huge tree with a wide trunk several feet away. Castiel walks past him and Dean follows until they’re both just looking at each other. Geez, this was so weird. 

“Okay.. uh, can you stand um against it?” 

Cas simply moves back not breaking eye contact. He can hear his wings shifting while the leaves on low hanging branches shake above them. He settles with his back against bark.

Dean huffs out in embarrassment and fidgets.

“Please, Dean.”

“Yeah, okay.” He gestures for Cas to turns his head then he moves closer until he can reach his neck and yes this felt easier… more like what he was used to. More like Amanda.

He slides up, reaching with his mouth and their chests press together. He spares a moment to compare Cas’ hard lean muscles to a girl’s soft flesh but then he latches on again. Dean briefly imagines one of their hotter sessions when he’d had her against the wall kinda like this. He sucks Cas’ warm skin between his teeth and worries it, best to get this done quick already. Arms come up to grip his shoulders and he gets a shot of pride when Cas starts his deep little gasps. It’s a weird power trip making a freaking angel react this way. God, he sounds all hot and needy.. Stop! Don’t think about it. He pulls harder with his lips on his neck for another minute or so, Cas’ head falling even further back to touch the bark and expose more skin.

This was so fucked up but it was really turning him on. He bites down and Cas jerks against him, feet sliding in the dirt as he pushes his back up, writhing in place. He can feel his stiff dick through the leather but he refuses to think about anything below the belt; especially since his own cock is straining his jeans.

Pulling back, he inspects his handy work. It’s red, almost purple.. would definitely leave the mark Cas wanted. That’s all he’d had to do. Cas’ eyes are closed and he’s breathing hard. He opens them and begins in a wrecked voice, “Is it- “

“It could be darker.” Dean cuts him off, voice hoarse .

Quickly cupping his jaw to push his head aside again, he goes back to licking and biting gently against his jugular.

Just a little bit longer. A little bit more.

He gets a zing of warm energy against his tongue that he’s starting to associate with Cas. And this. It drives him further when the current pulses straight to his cock. 

Jesus fucking Christ.

Dean moves his right hand up to bury fingers in his short messy hair then clenches them tight. Cas doesn’t tell him to stop, not like Amanda (that he’s supposed to be thinking about). Instead he fucking moans impossibly low. Biting down hard on his neck he yanks again and Cas’ hands fist in the back of his shirt so hard he hears a rip.

When Dean feels like he might choke on arousal, he finally pulls back to see a large, dark purple blemish. He only glimpses it for a second before Cas flips them so Dean’s against the tree, the air knocked out of him.

Gasping, he asks, “What are you-“

“I want to practice what I’ve learned.”

“Cas-“ 

But he’s already bending forward, knocking Dean’s cheek aside with his head, stubble scrapping along his jaw. It was never this rough with anyone. Or desperate. And fuck did it feel amazing.. so easy to get caught up in. But he had to stop this. It had already gone on too long. Gone too far. He was supposed to be pretending this was a chick and it was getting damn hard to do when he could feel another dude’s dick starting to rub just close enough to his for him to think about changing angles.

Cas starts off gentle, softly rubbing lips right where Dean had on him.. then licks and drags his teeth over the spot like a goddamn tease. Dean rolls his eyes up, staring at leaves, and blows out a puff of air so he didn’t make an embarrassing noise.

“We- we should stop.” Why is he heaving like he ran a mile?

Castiel only hums in what might be agreement against his skin.

“Cas, you- Fuck!” 

He’d shifted just right so their dicks were rubbing together. Dean grabbed the tree behind him with both hands down by his sides so he didn’t cling onto Cas and start writhing against his body. Cas stilled, just breathing over the wet spot in the crook between his shoulder and neck. It sent shivers down his spine but Dean made himself keep from moving.

“We..we..” Dammit there was a sentence in there somewhere.

Cas presses into him tighter, cupping the back of his neck and at the same time mouthing it hotly.

“Jesus..” He sighs grabbing Cas’ bare arms because he couldn’t not. He needed something to hang onto. His bicep flexes under Dean’s fingers as the hand on his neck moves to grip the back of his head. In a million years, he’d never have thought this was something a guy would like.. or even should like but when Cas pulled his hair so close to his scalp and bit down at the same time.. he almost came in his jeans right there.

“Cas!” He yelled out, bucking his hips to make some friction. Cas repeated the motion back at him while he held him pinned.

“Oh god.. oh fuck..." Dean’s eyes shut tight while his fingers dig into the pale flesh of angel arms. He tried at least to grab high up above his wound, above the silver cuff. 

There was no way in hell he would tell him to stop now. He was so close. He’d never actually gone so far as to come with someone but he’s not thinking about that now. And he’s not thinking about Amanda either.. or any girls he’s been with or what his dad, who makes colorful jokes about guys that do exactly what he’s doing, would think.

All there is, is the hot little noises Cas is making and the pulling and biting and open mouth kissing at his neck and fingers clenched in his hair, a flat chest holding him in place, a stiff outline thrusting up and down over him. Pressure and friction and tension reaching its peak.

“Dean.. I..” Cas’ guttural voice hitches in his ear. 

“I know. It’s okay.” Dean gasps.

“I’m..” He makes a sound like a whine and shoves hard all at once, pressing Dean into the tree with his whole body. Dean’s head lolls back, his mouth falls open as he cries out. All he hears is white noise and he feels weightless as the good feelings roll through him.

They stay tight together as each of them finishes their release and when his feet touch the ground, Dean realizes they were a few feet above the grass. Cas slumps so his forehead rests on Dean’s shoulder before bracing his arms on either side of Dean’s head to push back away from him. Dean opens his eyes to meet his sluggish gaze.

“That.. That was..” 

“Not supposed to happen.” Dean finishes grimly.

Cas face closes down, the awe seeping away as he tilts his head.

“You are angry.”

“No shit, Sherlock.” Dean shoves him back so he’s free to walk away. The house is probably three miles away but he just heads in that direction. His pants are stained and wet, a further reminder of what just happened.  
Cas is next to him in an instant, easily keeping up with his quick stride.

“I don’t understand. You seemed..” Cas trails off.

Dean turns angrily to see him staring at his neck while absently touching his own with a fingertip. Now that the endorphins had started to fade, he could feel the sore spot. Dean reaches up to press at it and winces.

“Goddamit, did you have to go Count Dracula on me?” He studiously avoids looking at Cas’ neck with his own ridiculously large hickey.

“I apologize.” He says not looking the least bit apologetic. “I will improve with more practice.”

Dean stops walking and Cas turns towards him.

“There won’t be any practicing. I know you don’t get this and maybe it’s different for barefoot virgins with wings but once you go so far.. it’s really hard to just stop and.. and it’s just not gonna happen again, okay?”

“Dean, why are you so agitated?”

“Because this isn’t me!" He gestures angrily back at the tree. “I’m not into dudes.” He holds up a hand when Cas is going to say something. “Or dudes with halos. This?” He catches a glance at Cas’ pants and blushes. “This is not alright.” He starts walking again.

“Okay, Dean.” He hears back behind him a ways.

Turning, he sees Cas hadn’t followed him. “Okay? What does that mean?”

“It was never my intent to distress you. I had thought... It’s not important. I would not wish to make you regret our time together. Or me. If you would prefer, I will discontinue my visitations.”

Dean walks away. Then stops again and sighs through his nose. Finally he growls at the sky and turns back.

“No, I don’t want that but no more of that big doe-eyed teach-me-how-to-kiss crap. I’m onto you.”

Cas gives him a small sheepish smile. “Do I detect a note of forgiveness?”

Dean sighs again and says, “Yeah, whatever. I guess.”

“Do you want me to take you home now?”

With the reminder of what Cas’ closeness did to him still cooling uncomfortably in his jeans, he just shakes his head. 

“Let’s walk.” 

After a while, Dean can feel Cas glancing at him from his side as they walk.

“Stop it.”

Cas does. Then a minute later, turns towards him again.

“What now?”

“Did I do well?”

“Are you seriously asking for a pat on the head?”

“I am not aware of how these interchanges usually culminate.”

Dean rolls his eyes and isn’t going to answer but he hears the slight note of uncertainty at the end.

“Considering the uncomfortable walk back we’re enjoying.. yeah I’d say you did pretty damn good.”

Cas dropped him back inside his window and stood on the sill while Dean stepped down inside and turned to him.

“Goodnight, Dean.”

He still wore a shy smile even after they spent thirty minutes walking in silence.

“Yeah night, Cas.” Dean says turning his back on him.

He didn’t want to see his swollen lips and bruised neck and stained.. Well they apparently weren’t stained anymore but he didn’t want to see any of it. Didn’t want to be reminded of his own lack of control. 

Cas left with him still turned away and Dean was a little relieved. Yeah it was kinda cowardly but he felt anything but brave while he unbuttoned his wet pants to change.

He’d prayed and asked Cas to give him some space for a few days. Three days later and Cas hadn’t shown up. Dean found himself being glad to avoid the issue one moment then annoyed the next. Annoyed at Cas for putting this crap into this head and himself for thinking about it too often. 

He kept his jacket collar up but his mom still asked him if Charlie might want to come to dinner sometime. He doesn’t bother telling her again that Charlie isn’t his girlfriend because then she might want to know more about the person he was letting making a plum-sized lovebite on his neck.

It only makes him more shameful but every once in a while he touches it and gets lost in the memory of rutting against the hard line of Cas’ body. An unyielding, steady pressure. Grabbing Cas’ arms. His rough cheek nuzzling..

Mary yanks him out of staring at his empty window one evening to go take the trash out. Groaning, he gets up and goes downstairs. Snatching the full bag up in stride, Dean tosses it in the trashcan, then drags it to the road since tomorrow is trash day. As he turns away, he catches something out of the corner of his eye down the road. Dean squints till he sees it’s a little girl on a bike.. the kind with a basket and streamers on the handlebars.

It’s weird to see a kid so young out near nighttime on their road when the houses are so far apart. 

She’s close enough to see she’s wearing a pale pink dress with puffy sleeves. Yikes, someone’s mom needs to step into this decade. Her long blonde hair whips behind her as she smiles big when she passes him.

“Hi, Mister!” She waves. Dean frowns but waves back.

She continues to smile and turn back to watch him until she’s out of sight.

Dean shakes his head and walks back toward the house.

Geez, what a creepy kid.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So my hand slipped and I accidentally wrote some sexiness. I fail at slow burns. *hangs head*


	9. Demons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You can stay.. if you want

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really enjoyed you all freaking out about a certain little girl. Who knew an innocent kid riding her bike could cause such alarm and distrust?

_"Heaven… I’m in Heaven”_

Dean rolls over and burrows deeper in his pillow.

_"And my heart beats so that I can hardly speak”_

Huh? He blinks and opens an eye. 

_“And I seem to find that happiness I seek"_

Dean lifts his head off the pillow and stares at his open window as a raspy voice finishes low and cheerful.

_“When we’re out together.. dancing cheek to cheek”_

He frowns and pushes up on his forearms to listen. At first, Dean had thought he might have been hearing the vestiges of a dream but there it is. The melody continues as a faint humming outside just under the sound of the wind rustling the leaves. Slowly getting out of bed, Dean walks around the window to his wall first, then slides along it quietly until he grabs the frame of one of the opens doors and peeks out.

There’s a man. Just sitting on their swingset.. like he isn’t in someone’s backyard, a mile from anyone else. Dean can’t see his face because his head is bent, but has short grey hair, thin arms that grip the chains, and a white dress shirt with sleeves rolled up even though it’s chilly. He still hums happily in time with the creak of the swing. When he pauses and looks up right at him, Dean quickly ducks back out of sight.

This is stupid. It’s just some drunk guy that wandered into the backyard. Why does he feel like a scared little kid? He should just go tell his dad. Or maybe go and tell him to leave himself.. or just go back to bed. Why does he feel like hiding under it instead?

There’s only the sound of the swing for a minute. 

Dean slowly sneaks around the corner again.

The swing is empty but still swaying steadily, the breeze helping it along. Dean swallows and darts his eyes all around the backyard. He looks straight down and to leans out to peer along the sides of the house. There’s nothing. As if there had always been nothing. As if there wasn’t just some weird guy on his little brother’s swingset. He shivers then feels a bit ridiculous.. but if he was drunk, where did he come from? Why would he be all the way out here so far from the center of town?

Dammit, he can’t get the creepy melody out of his head now. Dean takes one last look around then crosses his room and goes downstairs. He hesitates only a few seconds on the second floor, debating whether to wake his dad, then continues on to the bottom floor. Dean checks the locks and windows but doesn’t catch sight of anyone. When he’s at the backdoor, he pulls aside the curtain and watches the vacant swing shift only slightly now with the wind.

After several more minutes of craning his neck to stare at the shadows of the yard, he turns and walks quietly back up the stairs. 

Well, whoever the guy was he was gone now. 

He checks again from his bedroom window but he’s gone. Unsettled, Dean closes the doors and latches them for the first time in a long while. He gets into bed and tries to forget about the voice singing in the dark.

The next morning, Dean meant to tell his dad about it but he slept through his alarm. With all the frantic shuffling of throwing on whatever clothes were bundled on his floor and grabbing his bookbag, he barely had time to grab a poptart and yell bye as he ran for the bus.

That evening his dad doesn’t come home until late and Dean’s already in bed, trying to fall asleep when he hears the Impala’s rumble. He’ll tell him about their late night visitor tomorrow.

+++ +++ +++ +++ +++ +++ +++ +++ +++ +++ +++

Charlie had been out of school for the last few days so when she jumps next to him at his locker he smiles big. “Hey! Where ya been?” He throws the extra books in his locker before slamming it shut.

“Still under house arrest, Winchester?” She says, not answering the question.

“Yeah, looks like. Maybe by the weekend I’ll be free.” He swings his backpack over his shoulder and turns to her.

“Whoa.” She pulls at Dean’s collar to get a better look. Dammit, he’d already been through this with Benny who’d slapped him on the back with male pride and Amanda who’d glared coolly every time she passed him in the halls. He’d forgotten Charlie hadn’t seen him since last Friday. Cas’ hickey was definitely an eye-catcher and conversation starter.

He tries to knock her hand loose but she persists, laughing. “Man, did someone punch you in the neck?”

“Ha. Ha.” 

“Were you attacked by a zombie?” 

“Shut up, Charlie.”

“Did you fall on a doorknob?”

Dean smirks and rolls his eyes. Walking past her, he heads towards the buses.

“Was it Cas?”

Dean stops. Eyes big, he just stares ahead not really seeing all the people rushing by. Charlie knew Cas was a guy..

When she walks ahead of him and turns so she can see him, he doesn’t know what he looks like but she reaches out and grabs his hand. The hallway is almost empty and he can’t think of a thing to say. 

She quickly starts, “I mean I know it’s absolutely none of my-“

“Why would you ask that?” He gulps the extra saliva in his mouth and jerks his hand away. “Not.. not everyone’s like you, ya know. Just because you’re gay.. doesn’t goddamn mean I am, ok?! Just stop.. I mean.. Just leave me the hell alone!”

Charlie doesn’t walk away pissed off and Dean doesn’t storm off like he meant to. She just grabs the straps of her backpack and shifts a little in place from foot to foot.

“It’s okay if it was. And if it wasn’t. I just wanted you to know.. In case you didn’t.” Dean frowns at the floor, not able to meet her eyes. After an long awkward pause he hears, “So you wanna ride? I think the buses left while we were having our after school special moment.” She smiles tentatively at him when he looks up.

“Uh, I guess, “ he mumbles. When she turns away, he follows her out to the parking lot without another word between them. He opens his mouth a dozen times but nothing comes out and the radio fills the silence. They’re almost home when he blurts out, “It was.”

Charlie doesn’t react with a loud gasp and driving them off the road like he imagines the revelation should make her. She just smiles at him then turns her eyes back to the road.

For some reason, he thought the moment he admitted to someone else that he’d been.. close with a guy would be more earth-shattering. He didn’t tell her he was an angel or that he took Dean flying or anything so big but just saying this felt like the biggest thing he would ever say.

The moment passed and he felt less like he might hyperventilate and it felt kinda okay. Charlie dropped him off and they didn’t talk anymore about it. She just stuck her head out the window and told him to be on extra special good behavior because this weekend the Ghost Castle was goin’ down and they were getting their princess back.

Dean actually laughed at her serious game face. She got the same look when she talked about Legend of Zelda. Charlie had kinda a thing for rescuing damsels in distress.

When he got upstairs and fell on his bed, he put his hands behind his head and starts to wonder what Cas was doing right now. It’s still light out. Would he come to him if he prayed now or wait till night? Or take a few days? Or maybe not at all. Dean wouldn’t even look at him after he’d left that night. Cas has been smiling off and on the whole walk back afterwards. He probably hadn’t ever done something like that before.. and Dean had just told him to go and not come back. That he needed space from him.

Dean rubs his face and digs the heels of his hands into his eyes, groaning. Why was this getting so complicated? He didn’t like guys. He never looked twice at any of his friends or anything. Never had this pain behind his sternum when he thought about someone. Why was this different? Why was Cas different? He could tell himself it was the oddity of an angel.. the wings all of it but it wasn’t that. He had long been comfortable with Cas, talking to him just like he was another friend that happened to hang out in his room late at night. How do they go back to being friends when he knew what it felt like to have him shaking against him as he orgasms?  
Dean rolls onto his stomach and buries his face in the pillow. What was he supposed to do now?

His mom comes in and sighs from the doorway. 

"You’re not sleeping all day, get up. We’re taking Sam to the park."

“Alright.” He pushes up from the bed.

“And Ellen and Jo are meeting us there.”

Dean winces and drops back down. “Yeah maybe I’ll stay here.”

“Why?” Mary narrows her eyes with her hands on her hips.

“Jo hates me.”

“She does not hate you. She’s just going through a tough time.”

“I really need to start on that English essay.”

“You’re coming.” His mom says with finality. “She needs a friend and some fresh air will do you good.”

He groans and drags his feet all the way to the car. After a short ride, they get to the park and Sam immediately squirms until Mary lets him down to race towards the playground. He only stumbles twice but bounces right back up.  
Dean smiles and walks after him. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Ellen and Jo heading his mom’s way. Maybe he could get by with playing with Sam and Jo would just stay with her mom.  
He grabs Sam under the arms and lifts him up to hold onto the monkey bars. “I’m-a monkey, Dean!”

“Yeah, you look like one, Sammy.” Sam tries to kick backwards at him so he leaves him hanging to try and cross them by himself. 

“Dean!”

“Come on, you got this.” Sam huffs and swings forward to grab the next one.

“Hey, Dean.” Jo says, appearing next to him. He glances over and sees his mom on a bench with Ellen, talking. Great.

“Hey, Jo.” He offers, without enthusiasm.

“Sorry, they wanted to talk so you’re stuck with me.”

He smiles attempting for polite but probably hitting awkward. He goes back to watching Sam’s progress.

“And um sorry for yelling at you last time.. again.”

“Eh, don’t worry about it. I’m getting used to it.”

Sam reaches the end of the monkey bars and Dean catches him up to spin around before setting him back on the ground. He squeals and takes off a little unsteadily towards the slides.

Folding his arms, Dean leans against the swings. He remembers the guy in his backyard when Jo sits on one and gets a chill. He still had to tell his dad about him. It was probably nothing anyway.

“So what’s new with you?” she asks.

All he can think of is Cas. Since he saw her.. he’d flown with him, kissed him and had an amazing, embarrassing orgasm with him.

“Um.. nothing much. You?”

BRINNGGG BRINNGGG

“Nothing. My mom expects me to just go to school and play kickball or whatever. Pretend to be normal when it’s like nothing will ever be normal again.”

Great, here we go. He was shit at this type of thing and were they going to have this talk every time he saw her? 

Somewhere in the distance, there’s this repetitive chiming that’s vaguely irritating. 

“Yeah, I’m real sorry about your dad.” He says, bending his head to catch sight of Sam who waves exaggeratedly from atop a slide.

BRINNGGG BRINNGGG

“Not that. I mean, not just that. But everything else.”

Maybe if he just nodded and didn’t say anything they could sit in silence.

BRINNGGG BRINNGGG

Well not silence because of that damn bell some kid keeps ringing. It sounds kinda like one of those bicycle bells.

“He was a Hunter, too.”

BRINNGGG BRINNGGG BRINNGGG

“Yeah? Like deer and all that?” Christ, will that kid knock it off already? He’s looking around for the source of annoyance. Unsupervised little brat. “My uh dad likes to go out in the woods at-“

“Dean.” Jo scrunches her eyebrows.

“What?”

“Do you.. did they really not tell you?”

“Tell me.. what?” He focuses back on her now because someone must have finally grabbed their kid. The bell stopped.

“Hunter, Dean. Capital H. Vampires, Shapeshifters, The Boogie Man.. tell me you know.” She presses her lips together like she can’t stand his blank look. 

“Uh, what are you talking about?”

“My mom won’t tell me much.. but I heard her talking about my dad with Bobby. It was a demon.”

A demon? If there were angels.. could there really be-

The sound of Sam screaming jerks his attention away. He’s doesn’t see him. Feeling as though ice water had been thrown over his head, Dean runs across the sand until he’s at the slides. He circles them until he finds Sam crying on the ground hysterically, slumped and holding his arm. A second later, his mom is beside him.

“What? What happened?” She falls to her knees, looking from Dean to Sam while gingerly moving Sam’s arm. He howls and sobs at the slightest touch. 

“I don’t know! I only took my eyes off him for a second! He was just playing.”

Sam whines, and tries to talk between hiccuping. “She.. She pushed me!”

“What?” Dean looks around as they get Sam to his feet. There’s only a few smaller kids with their parents pushing them on baby swings, all staring at them in shocked horror.

“Come on, Honey. We gotta go.” Sam sniffles as Mary gently holds his arm so it doesn’t move as they walk. 

“Sam, someone pushed you?!” He asks, keeping up as they walk towards the car but continuously searching the area.

“Dean, he fell.” His mother says under her breath as she buckles him in with only one side of the child harness so it doesn’t touch his arm. 

“We’ll follow you. Do you want me to call John on the way?” Ellen asks from behind them.

“Yes, thanks.”

“She pushed me! She said she wanted to be friends! She-She-”

“Okay, Sam Baby. Just hold on. You’ll feel better soon.” Mary kisses him on the forehead and tells Dean to get in back with him.

He frowns at the playground, but there are only the same couple of parents with their small children.

“Dean! Get it now!” His mom yells from the driver’s seat.

Thankfully, it wasn’t a compound fracture but Sam still had to get a cast made for the break. He kept saying it was a girl who been talking to him at the top of the slides. Over and over he said she pushed him. His mom soothed him and held him close, telling him he was safe. She wouldn’t let anything happen to him.

Dean heard his mom tell the doctor’s her son had fallen and even though he hadn’t seen a little girl around that Sam swore was there.. it made him feel uneasy. He hated feeling helpless and watching Sam in pain was almost unbearable.

Their dad showed up in time to see his cast being fit into the sling. They doted and hugged over Sam for a while longer and left the hospital for ice cream before heading home.

Sam’s cries about a little girl stayed with him the whole drive.

That night, Dean’s trapped in a dark dream that whirls and twists, never settling for an instant. It’s all a collage of sounds and hazy images. The creak of a chain. A happy chime of a bicycle bell. Jo saying Demon. Sam screaming. Cas telling him he’d make a beautiful angel. It all flashes and melds until it crescendos and he jerks awake. 

There’s a shadow over him across his bed and Dean almost yells out before he sees those familiar blue eyes.

“Cas?!” He clutches his chest. “Jesus, you scared the shit outta me.”

“That was not my intention. I wouldn’t have woken you. I just needed to assure myself you were unharmed.”

“Why?” When Cas just turns away, he says, “Does it have anything to do with demons?” Dean waits to see if he can gage a reaction from him. His back stiffens but he doesn’t turn back. “They’re real?”

“Go to sleep, Dean.” 

Before he can hop off the ledge, he says softly, “You can stay.. if you want.”

Cas stands facing the outside, arms braced on the frame for a minute before looking over his shoulder. 

“Will you regret my being here later and yell at me again?”

Dean sighs and sits all the way up.”I guess I deserve that.”

Castiel steps down but stays near the window.

“Look, sorry about the other night.”

“I’m not. I am only sorry that you seem so conflicted.”

Cas stretches and rolls his shoulders slowly. Dean gets distracted by the thin line of his stomach that shows when his arms raise. When he meets Cas’ eyes again, they’re steady on his, as if he’s been staring at him for a while.

“Anyway, I felt bad with the way we left things.” Dean’s face is hot and he wipes his palms on the comforter he’s staring at like his life depended on it.

“And how would you rather have left things, Dean?” Cas says like he’s not going to help him a bit but is content to watch him squirm. He hasn’t made a move towards him, simply leaning back against the wall a few feet away with arms crossed.

“Well, I just meant it was a dick move to just blame you. I got a little.. caught up too.”

That was one way to put coming in your pants rubbing against an angel. A freaking angel.. it suddenly seemed wildly taboo to even think about, especially given some of his dirtier thoughts when he zoned out lately. While Cas is quiet, Dean keeps glancing at his neck where the hickey he gave him is a faint purple and yellow smudge. It would have been gone by now if not for.. he gets the unbidden memory of saying it could be darker.

“You didn’t, uh, wanna heal that?”

“No.”

“Why not, Cas?” He gets up to stand a few feet away and immediately regrets it. He should really have stayed where he was on the bed, because now that he’s closer Dean can’t stop imagining being pinned up against that damn tree. 

“It is a pleasant memory and I am not ashamed of the reminder.” Cas’ voice seems hollow, devoid of emotion.

“So your brothers saw it?”

“Yes.”

“What’d you tell them?”

“Merely that you were teaching me the process of marking and that I enjoyed reciprocating very much.”

He feels his face heat with a blush, thinking about Cas telling other faceless angels about the human he necked with. He feels itchy and restless; wanting to step closer when he knows that would be the worst idea in the world. He can’t keep doing this. Cas is naive and this is being an ass… playing with him when he now knew that Cas wanted more from him.

“Christ, this is ridiculous.” He growls out.

“What is wrong, now?”

“You.”

“Dean, I have literally done nothing and offered to leave as well.”

“Just standing there.. it’s like you’re in my goddamn head.”

“I told you I would not read your mind-“

“I don’t mean that.”

Cas was always hung up on the literal. Dean grits his teeth and paces. He should just shut up and let him leave, but when sees the damn hickey again its makes his dick twitch.

“I can’t stop...” Cas tilts his head. “I can’t stop thinking about your stupid mouth and how you’re all warm like a space heater and you smell so freaking good and-.” Dean’s gasping between the string of accusations, working himself up until he’s right in front of Cas, breathing hard. 

Cas just stares at him impassively. “If you are waiting for me to make it easier by assisting you, then stop. I won’t kiss you this time just to have you angry at me afterwards.”

He didn’t.. was that what he was doing? Cas is right there, so close he can smell the outside he always brings with him. Breathing in the faint powdered honey scent of his wings and watching his lips.. Dean realizes that is exactly what he’s doing. When the hell did he start wanting this? Maybe if they just kissed.. he could figure out if this was really something he liked. No getting caught up thinking about Amanda.. No tutorials.. Just for no other reason than he wanted to.

All he had to do was inch forward but that would be such a big step. Dean puts his arms out on either side of Cas’ head and smiles his most charming smile.

“C’mon, Cas…” His voice is a little husky now, feeling himself getting hard. “You won’t help me just a little bit?” The darkening look in Cas’ eyes makes him eager even though he’s nervous. 

Cas unfolds his arms and slowly brings a hand up to the side of Dean’s face and rubs the pad of his thumb over his bottom lip. Dean closes his eyes for a second then reopens them to see Cas watching him closely. The hand moves to behind his neck and when Cas pulls him forward, Deans already moving that way.

Their lips hit hard, teeth bumping and Cas uses it to catch his bottom lip and tug before surging forward again with his tongue. Dean makes a surprised but happy noise. Their mouths slant and rub so it’s messy. He’s not used to having the other person be so aggressive.. pressing into the kiss just as forcefully, so he backs off a bit and lets Cas lead.. sucking his tongue when it dips inside his mouth. Somehow they switched places but he doesn’t know when. Dean only realizes it when he goes to close the distance between their groins and he’s immediately pushed back against the wall by a hand on his chest.

“Cas..” He breathes when he moves to that goddamn spot on his throat that makes him whimper now. Stubble scrapes over his neck, sending sparks and shivers of anticipation skipping down his spine. Dean’s make-out sessions never got as far as the rutting him and Cas had done before but now that he knows what it’s like.. he wanted it again.

When Cas’ tongue prods at his fading mark in-between sucking the skin between his teeth, Dean groans and clutches him close, theirs fronts colliding again. He only gets to feel Cas’ hardness digging into his hip for a second before he brings a hand up between them to firmly push Dean flush against the wall again. His splayed hand keeps Dean in place this time as his teeth worry that spot.

“Dammit, C’mon Cas. I need.. I need to-“

He lifts his head, licking his lips. “You should understand what you want before you say what you need.”

“Okay, Obi Wan.” Dean rolls his eyes in annoyance. “Why are you even talking?” Dean grabs his face and tries to connect their lips. Cas lets him pull him close enough to brush lips but not deepen it.

“You are a confusing, irritating human. If I kiss you now, later you will tell me you don’t like my kisses.”

Dean bends to kiss along his neck.

“That this is wrong.” Cas moans low but cuts it off to say, “That this is not what you want.”

Dean growls in frustration and let’s his head fall back.

“Goddamnit, why do you have to complicate it? You like kissing me, right?”

“Obviously.” He frowns even with his lips all swollen and pink.

“Then..” He grabs him by the shirt and yanks him forward.

Cas gives into him for an intense minute of their bodies pressed tight and tongues sliding before he pushes back again but only half an inch this time, arm resting up near Dean’s head from elbow to wrist. Cas’ fingers burrow into short hair while he pants in Dean’s ear. “You said we could not do this anymore.”

“Yeah, I know what I said.” Dean says before gripping him by the hips and pulling him tight against him so when he surges up their bulges rub.

“But-“ He stops to gulp air at the feel of Cas shallowly thrusting in return, head buried in his shoulder. “But I’m tired of talking.” Dean reaches down between them with a shaky hand and grabs Cas through the leather to get his attention.

“Aren’t you?”

When Cas makes a loud pained noise at the ceiling, Dean covers his mouth with his palm and hisses, “Shhh, we gotta be quiet.”

Cas nods and Dean shifts his palm around to cup his face and bring it back. 

He won’t think too hard about his parents right below them or what it means that he likes doing this with Cas so much. He just clutches his neck and sifts fingers in his wild hair, holding him in place so he doesn’t move away. Not that it seemed he was. Since Dean touched him over his pants, he hasn’t let any space between them, giving in entirely.

Dean’s eyes open mid-kiss when a hand grips him through his flannel pajama bottoms. It mimicked exactly the way he had touched Cas a moment before, without moving or anything else. Cas only ever seemed to repeat his movements back to him, either from inexperience or maybe since Dean did it first he saw it as a green light. 

When he just breathes roughly against Cas’ mouth, no longer participating in the kiss, Cas moves close to his ear and says, “Do you want me to stop?”

Stop. Did he want him to stop? Stupid question but how far were they gonna go?

Cas’ fingers trace his length, reminding him to answer. “Dean?” He kisses just over that sweet spot on his neck that makes him shiver.

“Fuck no. Don’t stop.”

The hand tightens over him all at once just as Cas bites down on his pulse point. Biting his own lip in attempt to stifle any noise, Dean still moans deep in the back of his throat. Cas pulls back to lick over his mouth, coaxing him into a kiss.

The hand that wasn’t busy learning the contours of his most intimate body part is cupping the back of his neck. Cas is tugging him by it and walking backwards towards.. the bed. Without breaking the kiss, he turns them around and pushes Dean back to fall on the mattress. Pushing his palms into the bed behind him, Dean scoots back further and Cas follows, crawling above him and connecting their lips again.

“I like this much more than standing,” Cas murmurs between kissing his chin and jaw.

“Yeah, I think you just wanna get me on my back.” Dean laughs but it turns into a gasp. 

He feels Cas smirk into the sensitive skin behind his ear. "Perhaps."

Dean swallows almost letting the anxiety come back for a second. He’s on his bed with a guy’s weight pressing him into the sheets.. was he ready to do more? He liked kissing and the rubbing felt fucking amazing.. but what else was Cas expecting? Dean didn’t have a clue in hell what he was doing in this new territory and Cas seemed to pick up all his ques from him. It was hard enough not to freak out because he always seemed to be the one that ended up on his back against some surface.. and how he kinda liked it. What would that mean if they went further.. shit he couldn’t even think about that without almost choking on panic.

Cas interrupts his mental rambling when he asks, “Would you let me see you?”

“See me?” Dean grabs a breath between a kiss.

“Yes.” Cas’ fingers travel up to the waist band of his pants before dipping inside to encircle his throbbing dick. Turning his face into Cas’ shoulder, Dean cries out at the warmth surrounding him suddenly. 

“Okay,” he whispers as if he could undo the semi-loud noise he just made.

Cas turns his head to the side and lowers his eyes so he can watch his hand pull out Dean’s cock. While doing so, he inadvertently pulls upwards and Dean’s hips buck.

“Fuck!” He whispers, harshly.

“Did I hurt you?” Cas turns back to him quickly.

Panting, Dean laughs, “Hell no. Haven’t you ever done this to yourself?”

Cas lowers his gaze again. “No.” He’s half-paying attention to him while tracing the exposed outline of his stiffness with a finger, pinched eyebrows and all… like he’s studying this new part of Dean. 

Dean gets up on his elbows and watches too, getting lost in the way Cas follows the vein up to his head, running a fingertip over the pre-cum collecting at his slit. He turns his finger and rubs it between his thumb. 

“God, you’re killing me.” Dean sighs, trying not to lose it right there.

“You touch yourself like this often?”

“Well ya know.. It’s normal. Most everybody does. Remember that time you flew in on me and I freaked out?”

Cas raises his eyebrows at that, glancing at Dean’s face before gripping him tight in his fist again. Dean’s eyes flutter when he pulls upward. Opening his eyes, he sees Cas above him from a few inches away, eyes taking in his whole face.

“Tell me what to do.”

God, this was hot. 

“Um, keep doing that, but grab a little higher.. Jesus.. yeah. Okay tighter and.. fuck.. faster…Yeahh..” Dean rolls his eyes back and drops his head on the mattress, not able to watch anymore. “Like that.. “ his mouth falls open.  
Cas is rubbing his own dick, still trapped in his pants, over Dean’s thigh while his hands pumps him. Dean fists his hands in the sheets, turning his neck so Cas can bury his face into his shoulder at the same time. He disentangles one hand to reach up and hold Cas’ head against him, twisting his fingers in his dark locks.

Why did this feel so much better when someone.. when Cas.. was doing it? As a normal red-blooded teenager, he’d probably jerked off hundreds of times but when the twists and quick tugs were ones he didn’t anticipate.. along with the foreign feeling of someone else’s callused fingers.. rubbing the sensitive skin..

Cas catches his lips and Christ that was even better.

Everything’s building. Cas groaning into his mouth while grinding into his leg. Dean’s back bounces into the mattress a little with each thrust in time with his working hand.

“Faster, Cas.” Dean says against his lips and bites down on Cas’ bottom lip when his hand picks up speed.

“Ughh.. Fuck, Cas.. yes.. harder..”

Gasping sharply, Cas grips him almost too hard but it sends him over. He cries out into the hollow of Cas’ shoulder while his cum hits his tshirt and drips over Cas’ fingers. His whole body feels boneless and he has to grab Cas’ wrist to make him stop tugging. His hand relaxes and Cas rubs his rough cheek against Dean’s face like a content feline. He’s a heavy weight collapsed half over him and Dean realizes Cas is soft against him. He must have come sometime when Dean was having his own little blissed out moment. Now he felt kinda like a selfish prick.

“Geez, sorry for-“

Cas kisses him quick and with enthusiasm. “Dean, do not be sorry for anything right now.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you are enjoying my little fic. Now would be an excellent time to draw your attention to my Angst tag. Just.. so you can't wail and gnash your teeth at me later for not warning you. I love you all dearly!


	10. Go

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wouldn't it be better if they knew?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Chapter contains homophobia and wing-kinkery.

They’re quiet for a while after that, Cas still lying half on him with an arm draped over his middle. Dean grabs the elastic of his pajama bottoms and tucks himself back out of sight, feeling self-conscious now. 

Cas turns his head to look up at him. “Was that.. okay?” he asks hesitantly. 

“Yeah..” Dean says to the ceiling, a little lost on what to do now that his hormones weren’t egging him on.

“I can leave..” Cas offers quietly.

Dean lowers his gaze to see Cas’ face is blank, devoid of all its previous happy exuberance.

“If you want.” Cas tenses, but before he can move Dean adds, “Or you could stay a little longer.”

When he settles back down against him, Dean rests his hand on his back. After another minute, it feels less awkward. 

“Cas, look.. I’m trying really hard not to freak out. I don’t know what I’m doing here, but I..” He stops to think how to put it before saying, “I know I like this. And I like doing it with you.”

Cas grins and looks away. “Only me?”

“Yeah, only you.”

The silence stretches for a few minutes with Dean staring up again, trying to wrap his head around what they just did. What it might mean and.. how the hell was he supposed to act now? His fingers idly rub over Cas’ back and he looks down when they are stopped by an invisible protrusion. 

“Cas?” He strokes around its width. “Is that-“

“It seems I lack concentration at the moment.”

“You mind if I touch them?”

“Please.”

Dean’s fingertip follows up what feels hard like bone. Cas shivers against him, face burying under his chin to bump it. He laughs, “Is that like a turn on for you guys?”

“Others of my kind would not expose their true selves to a human, I doubt they would know, but I find it very exciting.”

Dean stomach flips and he tries to sound confident when he says, “Take your shirt off for me.”

Cas looks almost nervous with wide blue eyes but lifts up to pull his shirt over his head. He lays across Dean’s chest, head in his folded arms. Dean watches his fingers ghost over smooth skin, pale in the moonlight. When he reaches the spot where his right wing seems to grow out flesh, he encircles the bone with his thumb and index finger and slides up until it widens too far to keep them together. Cas sighs and turns his face so his other cheek is resting on Dean’s chest and looks at him. Dean flicks his eyes up to watch his hand touch invisible feathers, then down to Cas’ face when he inhales sharp. He reaches his arm up to glide along the smooth arch of what is presumably the top of the wing until he can’t anymore because he’d have to get up and Cas is snuggling closer, arms wrapping around his middle.

Dean flattens his hand and drags it down over row upon row of soft feathers. They tremble and shift under his fingers and he feels a gust of air against his face. Cas makes a desperate noise kinda like a deep hiccup and shuts his eyes tight.

“Jesus, you’re hot like this.” Dean didn’t mean to say it out loud but Cas opens his eyes like he’s drugged and smiles shy up at him. Dean rakes his fingertips down again.

“Dean..” he gasps and jerks.

“Did I hurt you?” Dean smirks, imitating Cas earlier. He loved hearing his name said in Cas’ wrecked voice.

“Yes, it was quite painful.” Cas deadpans. 

Frowning, Dean asks, “Seriously?”

“Yes. Maybe you should do it again.” 

Grinning, Dean gets an idea and pulls his hand back. Cas looks up disappointed, but not surprised. Geez, he probably thought he was ready to bolt again.

“How ‘bout you answer a few questions and we’ll see what happens?”

“Questions?” Cas squints but Dean rubs a thumb up his spine, his voice sounds strained. “What kind of questions?”

Dean plays a finger coyly over a few inches of his shoulder blade. “Are demons real?”

“Dean.. you know-“

He gasps when Dean sinks his hand in a cluster of softness before pulling it back to prop behind his head, pointedly. Cas glares up at him but Dean just smirks and waits.

“Demons are real,” he says frowning.

“See, that wasn’t so hard.”

Cas grumbles and drops his head back down.

“So, why’d you come here tonight? Not that I’m complaining.” He rubs an unseen feather between two fingers like a promise. Or a tease. 

“There is an increase of demonic activity in this town.” He winces when Dean’s surprised and lifts his hand to accidentally catch on several feathers against the grain.

“Sorry, sorry.” Cas relaxes against him again when strokes his back muscles. “Do they have wings and stuff like you?”

“They are nothing like us,” Cas almost growls.

“Alright, simmer down. I didn’t know, did I? You never tell me anything.”

Cas still locks his jaw. Dean tugs lightly on a feather to see if it produces a good reaction or not. Cas makes a happy grunt. Tugging on several at once, gently, he continues, “So what are they like? Not all hot like you, right?” He rubs his other hand through Cas’ hair. Cas smiles at the compliment and loses the last of his anger. “Are they ugly? I bet they have pointy tails.”

“Their bodies are not their own. They must possess a vessel.” Cas grits his teeth when Dean grips lower down on his wing. “A Human.”

Dean runs his hand as low as he can reach to sift through what seem like longer, stiffer feathers. Cas’ addictive scent is surrounding him as he drowns in his soft moans. His finger is suddenly sliced by a sharp edge.

“Shit!” He pulls his hand back to see blood dripping steadily. Cas looks up and grabs his hand firmly and brings it to his lips. When he kisses the wound, it closes. 

“I apologize.. you make me forget my control.”

“What the hell was that? Did your wing just bite me?”

“I told you before.. my lower flight feathers can sharpen.” Cas looks all worried with blood on his bottom lip. Dean kisses him, chastely.

“You’re dangerous, huh? Should I be afraid of you, Cas?”

“Of course.” Cas pushes Dean back and shifts so he’s between his legs, above him with arms straight out to brace himself above Dean. Without hesitation, he grabs Dean’s pants on either side of his hips and pulls them down over his ass so he’s all out to his mid-thigh. His half-hard erection bobs in the cooler night air.

“Whoa, Cas.”

“Yes, Dean?” He says, with his gaze down between them. It’s shocking for him to just touch him now with boldness. Like there isn’t a question that he’s allowed to touch Dean when he wants without asking.  
“I already.. I can’t-“

While kissing him, Cas takes Dean’s hand and brings it down to his leather pants. Dean’s heartbeat jumps but his hand stays frozen just over Cas’ black cord lacing. 

Burrowing into his neck, Cas says, “I tried not to come back here. So many times, I tried, Dean. I couldn’t stop thinking about your beautiful green eyes and soft lips.. or the noise you make that seems to embarrass you.”

Dean blushes knowing exactly what stupid high-pitched whine he’s talking about. Cas sucks at his ear lobe and it gives him the last push to drag his fingers through the tied cord and pulling until the leather separates and he’s suddenly touching him for the first time. His hand shakes as he follows Cas’ length up from the root to tip. He’s warm and smooth. It’s not unlike touching himself except he gets to watch Cas scrunch his face up and bite on his chapped pink lips and know that he’s the reason. It’s almost as good as doing it to himself. Almost. The next best thing.

He pulls Cas down to nip at his lips and then remembers what made him all hot and horny again in the first place. He keeps Cas occupied with rubbing a thumb over his head and sucking on his tongue when it surges inside his mouth. Reaching behind his back, Dean slots his hand under the invisible wing and bunches it tight. Groaning, Cas dips his hands underneath Dean’s ass and lifts him up so their dicks bump. Then rub. Then thrust along side each other. Dean had lowered his hand to the small of his back, surprised by the sudden movement and Cas’ strength, suspending him a bit in air. He slides his hand upward now to wrap around the joint, then up underneath. He frowns with his fingers get covered in a warm leaking fluid. Cas bites his shoulder to cry out and rock against him hard with his hips. He doesn’t know what it is but it’s driving Cas nuts. He lifts two wet digits up to his face. Sniffing them curiously, Dean brings them hesitantly towards his tongue. 

Cas lifts his head suddenly and watches with wide slightly-crazed eyes.

“Dean..” He gasps.

Dean’s tongue tingles.. and it tastes like strong honey and maybe almond? 

“What is that?” He frowns at his fingers, licking around his mouth and watching them move with the thick viscous substance on them.

“My oil, you- stop putting it in your mouth, Dean.”

“It kinda tastes..” 

Cas grabs his wrist in a hold that will probably bruise. “You have no idea the restraint I am exercising when you do that. I would suggest you stop now.”

Dean quirks an eyebrow and reaches down to grab his cock all at once again, smiling smugly when Cas’ eyes roll back.

“Yeah?” He licks his fingertip. “This gettin’ you all riled up, Cas? You-“

Dean’s head jerks towards the door when he hears footsteps on the stairs.

“Cas!” He pushes at his chest to shake him out of his daze. “You gotta go!”

Cas drops down to kiss him hard, pressing something into his hand.

“Go! Go now!” He whispers quickly, grabbing the control to turn on the tv. He spares a second to blindly change to a random late night talk show and grab Cas’ shirt to throw at him. Smiling wide, he walks backwards. 

Despite his panic, Dean smiles back before frantically waving him away. When the doorknob turns he has time to look down and hike up his pajama pants and see Cas’ dive backwards out of the window.

Dean shuts his eyes and tries to breathe shallowly. Footsteps cross his floor and stop at the end of his bed. Slow and even, he thinks over and over though his pulse is pounding. They can’t tell he just had angel sitting on his lap. Slow and even. He fights to not curl into a ball. After a few more seconds, his tv is turned off and then there’s complete silence. Dean slowly creaks an eye open the tiniest bit to see his dad staring out the window. When he turns towards him, Dean quickly shuts his eyes. After another minute, he hears the windows being latched and his father closing his door.

Dean breathes out a shaky breath and turns on his back. He pulls out his closed hand from under the covers to see what Cas gave him before they were almost caught. 

It’s a solid black feather.

The next morning, when Dean wakes up the first thing he does after yawning is reach under his pillow to see the feather again. He twirls it once, smiling, then feels like a lovesick girl so he looks around until he finds a book on the floor. It’s the fairytale book that Cas first read Sleeping Beauty in and started them kissing in the first place. Thinking it was fitting, he carefully places it in the middle and closes it before finding a natural looking spot on the book shelf.

He gets dressed and runs downstairs for breakfast. His mom is at the stove, cooking bacon. He announces his presence with an enthusiastic, “Morning!” and a quick kiss to her cheek before sitting at the table next to Sam.  
Mary turns and raises an eyebrow. “Well, Good Morning. Is that really my broody teenage son? Are you feeling okay?”

“Stop.” Dean pushes her hand away when she feels his head like she’s taking his temperature. 

After a second, his mom’s eyebrows furrow. “Do you smell syrup or something?” She crosses the kitchen, checking around until she finds the maple syrup bottle and sniffs it. Dean blushes as she lifts it looking for a hole. He thought Cas’ sweet scent had been in his head. Lowering his hands under the table, he quickly asks, “Uh, where’s dad?”

“He left for work early.” She shakes her head and puts the bottle back.

Sam had been poking his spoon at his oatmeal with his good hand and hasn’t even looked up yet. “Hey, Sammy!”

“Hi.” His little brother says quietly.

“Hey, C’mere. Don’t you know you’re supposed to decorate one of those?” 

Dean spends the rest of breakfast drawing a dragon in green sharpie that might look a little like a lizard with a beard but it does the trick of making Sam smile. He asks his mom if Charlie can come over since its Saturday and she agrees. When she gets that knowing proud mom look, the happy feeling in his stomach sours. He could never tell them about Cas. Well, not that he would be able to anyway with him being an angel. It’s like their time at night doesn’t exist in the light of day. Cas doesn’t make sense here in his bright morning kitchen with his baby bro and mom eating bacon and pancakes. What he was doing was scary enough with a guy.. but slap wings on him and it was just.. what was he doing? On top of everything, had he corrupted an angel? Cas hadn’t even kissed anyone before him. It was easy to forget. The last two times he didn’t look like he needed much help.. what with the way he got all aggressive and took the lead. And fuck if that wasn’t hot when he got that dark look in his eye like he was sure if everything they were doing. He was apparently learning exactly what touch to use when. 

And his wings.. Dean can imagine them better now. Huge and pitch black, spread high above him. Dean licks his thumb surreptitiously and there’s still a sweetness to his skin. He was already nervous and hoping Cas might come back that night again.

Charlie makes it over about 3 in the afternoon and he can tell right away something’s wrong. She doesn’t joke or call him Winchester or anything as she follows him up the stairs to his room. Dean asks her if she’s alright and she just nods. When she sits down to play next to him on the floor, she just stares at her hands.  
“Charlie?” He asks, setting down his controller. After she doesn’t acknowledge him, he takes hers and sets it down too.

“What’s a matter?”

Tears start streaming down her face but she still hasn’t looked up yet. Dean clenches his jaw, hating how he was so inept at this. Finally, he throws an arm over her shoulders and pulls her close into his side.  
“It’s okay. You don’t have to talk about it.” He says against her temple.

Charlie grabs his shirt and cries into his collar as he strokes her hair. After a while, she sniffs and pulls back, not looking at him.

“Sorry.” She wipes angrily at her face. “I hate being weepy.”

“Sorry I’m sucking at knowing what to say.”

Her lips twitch but turn down instead of into a smile. She shakes herself and asks if they can play now. Dean tells her whatever she wants. 

After a few minutes of Mario and Luigi making their way energetically through dancing cacti, she says her mom’s cancer came back. When he pauses the game with his controller, she immediately unpauses it with hers. Dean reluctantly turns his attention back to the screen as she goes through the last few tough years and how for a while it looked better. But it always came back.

“Let’s talk about something else.” She says grimly after an extended silence.

“Like what?”

She blows out a shaky breath. “Anything. I’m tired of being sad.”

Charlie had opened herself up so maybe he could give her a little of himself back.

“So.. things are going.. uh pretty good with Cas.” He starts slowly.

She turns to give him an actual smile. “Yeah? What’s he like?”

Dean grins stupidly at the screen while thinking. “Well he’s like real intense. Kinda uptight sometimes but then he can be.. I don’t know..” He looks at her and stops abruptly. “What?”

“Nothing. You’re just so cute. So where’d you meet him? He doesn’t go to our school, right?”

“Oh um.. he lives around here. I.. he doesn’t go to school.”

“Older guy? Not in a creepy Dateline Old-guy-stalks-youth kinda way, hopefully?”

Dean smirks. “Nah, just a little bit older.”

Come to think of it, he’d never asked much about that. How angels age or how any of it even worked. Cas had been coming to him since he was 12 and he never looked any different. Before all that stuff had been on the off limits list of topics as was most of his questions about angels, but surely now he had some right to ask? Or not. What was he even to Cas?

Charlie pulls him out of his thoughts to ask if his parents knew about Cas.

“Not exactly. So next level?”

Charlie looks uneasy but resolutely turns ahead and goes back to playing. He thinks they’re done talking and absorbs back into the game but eventually she says, “You know that’s gonna bite you in the ass, right?”

“Huh?”

“You should be the one to tell them now before they find out another way.”

“Charlie.” He stops and puts down the remote completely. She pushes pause and turns to him, warily. ”They can’t know. Ever. My dad.. that- that would...” Getting worked up, Dean imagines holding Cas’ hand in front of his parents and starts sweating. 

“Hey, it’s okay.” She waits for him to run a nervous hand through his hair and turn back towards her. “I’m just sayin’.. wouldn’t it be better to be like open about it?”

“No.” 

She stares at him for a minute but he returns it with hard eyes. “Alright, alright.” She throws up her hands in surrender. “Here endeth the lecture.” She pushes him lightly on the shoulder. “Thanks for telling me. And for not bolting at my meltdown.”

“Anytime you need to make my shirt all gross and snotty, I’m here for ya.”

“There was no snot! I cry quite prettily, I’ll have you know.”

The rest of the afternoon is comfortable and carefree again. His dad comes home during dinner and barely says hello before he’s running upstairs for a shower. They finish eating and once Dean clears the plates, his mom asks if he can take the trash out. He grabs the bag and walks out the door around to the side of the house. Its dusk and the sounds of the insects buzzing fill the air. He throws the trash in and covers it back with the lid. He makes it only a few steps before he’s grabbed by the arm and slammed against the wall of his house. Before he can stop wincing, lips are covering his and he’s caged by a warm body.

“Cas?” he gasps between a kiss. He smiles against Dean’s lips and murmurs, “Do you have a habit of kissing others against your home?”

Dean makes a small humming noise of approval when Cas nuzzles his neck before he realizes where they are.  
“Wait, no. You can’t be here.”

“Mmm,” Cas’s voice against his throat just sounds like a rumble when he kisses and sucks a trail from his Adam’s Apple to his chin, then along jaw and nipping at his earlobe. “I’ve missed you.”

“You just saw me last night.” Dean arms come up to stroke his shoulder blades where he seemed to be sensitive even if his wings weren’t out.

“It seemed longer. Do you not miss me when I am gone?” He sounds playful but there’s a small tension in his back now.

“Jesus, of course.” Dean arches away from the wall and into Cas’ body to grind against him. “You’re all I freaking think about, lately.”

Dean gets a little caught up in the feel of Cas pressing so tight along his body and how his fingers hold his head in place while coaxing him into kissing that he forgets why he has to leave. Until Cas is abruptly pulled back and flung away from him.

Dean blinks, probably looking as dazed as Cas before he sees his dad glaring between him and his angel.

“Who the fuck are you?”

Cas glances towards Dean who feels like he’s going to be sick. He should say something. Anything. What combination of words would make this not appear to be exactly what it was?

“Hey!” His dad pushes Cas’ shoulder hard so he takes a small step back. “Don’t look at him. You fucking look at me!” Somewhere in his head, Dean knows that it’s only because Cas allowed it that he shifted back. It would take a lot more than his father, pissed off or not, to move Cas if he didn’t want to. Cas flicks his eyes to his father and coolly keeps his gaze until John tightens his jaw and just growls, “Get out of here.”

Cas doesn’t make a move or break away from the staring match until Dean manages to make his mouth work.  
“Just go.” Dean says, not looking at him.

He furrows his brow at Dean but reluctantly walks off towards the front of the house. Well not like he could fly off Dean thinks ridiculously so he doesn’t have to think that his dad was now turning all his attention to him.  
“Is this why you’ve been dropping grades and moping around the house? To be sneaking around with some asshole?”

“Cas isn’t some asshole.” It’s the only thing he can think to say with his brain panicking and words flinging through him a mile a minute with none sticking.

“Cas? That’s Cas?! How long has this shit been goin’ on?” 

Dean balls his fists at his sides and keeps staring at his dad’s shoes. 

“Answer me!”

Wincing, he mutters, “Not long.”

John shakes his head at the ground. “Where did this come from? I didn’t raise you to be some goddamn Fa-“ He whips his head away and growls, cutting himself off... But Dean still heard it. Just as if he had yelled it.

Faggot.

Everything feels unreal and numb after that. His dad yells some more while pacing until he’s red in the face and his mom comes out. He vaguely knows that they’re shouting back and forth but he doesn’t hear any of it. That word circles his head. And his father’s look of disgust. 

Dean finally walks past them through the kitchen with Sam saying his name and goes upstairs. He locks the door behind him and quietly lies down on his bed turning on his side while clutching a pillow. When someone pounds on the door, he only moves the pillow up to hold over his head. Eventually the heavy knocks stop and thudding footsteps fade. 

The numbness returns and Dean wallows in it. What follows is a semi-wakeful state where he would probably fall asleep if his brain would turn off but he just keeps seeing his dad’s face, keeps hearing that half-said word.. over and over and over again. His stomach knots and rolls so that he thinks about throwing up off and on but that would mean leaving his room. Why wasn’t he more careful? Why had he let Cas kiss him so out in the open? God, his dad had seen him kissing him too. There was no denying it. What was he even gonna say? He can’t even imagine what it’ll be like when he’s finally made to leave his room and face them. Face him. For now all he can do is lie here and wish for a hole to come swallow him up. 

At some point he feels the bed dip but he ignores it. After long minutes of nothing, Dean says, “Go away, Cas.” His voice sounds dead and empty even to himself. He stays on his side, facing the other way. 

A hand touches his shoulder and Dean closes his eyes at the momentary comfort before barking low, “I said, go away!” He shrugs away further from him and whispers, “Please.”

Dean lets his mind tune out the world again to get wrapped up in his own dark-tented thoughts. When he checks over his shoulder later, he’s alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those who are worried about how angsty my angst will get.. let me tell you this now. I am a firm believer in happy endings.. but you have to earn it.


	11. Will

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I just want you to say it’s over.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to my lovely readers.. especially anyone who takes the time to comment or kudo. It does wonders for my confidence and ambition. Also there will occasionally be a snippet from Castiel's POV. I might eventually go back and have a companion fic with scenes from his POV or missing scenes with him but for now this is it.

Castiel stands in the shadows against a nearby house watching her. He should not be here. Besides the obvious reasons, it only makes it worse but he has to check and make sure she’s okay. Like he does everyday. Humans are so fragile. 

She’s getting out of a car, laughing at something the male says. He comes around to take her hand. He seems to share her home now. They’re about to walk up the stairs to their bungalow two bedroom house. It has lots of earthy tones. Variations of browns, greens, deep reds.. Castiel noticed an abundance of pictures with flowers, too. Frames with sunflower prints, daisies, a painting of red poppy fields.. He imagines it would make the inside seem like one big garden. Not that he would ever be inside to know. 

Suddenly, the woman stops and whips her long red hair around to face his direction. She can’t see him, he reasons. If he flinches, the movement will give him away. Castiel wills himself still, not a feather twitching and watches her search the darkness. It almost feels like they’re staring at each other. He takes in her face, the new lines and matured mouth. It’s almost the same, though she seems to smile more now. Easier.

Finally, the male tugs her hand until she frowns but lets him pull her along up to their porch. As Castiel grips the hilt of his Angelblade tight to ground him, he hears Dean’s gruff voice. Before he can smile in relief, he processes the words of his prayer. “Don’t come.”

He sighs and air puffs out in front of him. If only he could go back to not wanting anything.. away from this place. Let the Earth spin on without him. He looks at his bare bicep with a pinched brow. It’s tempting.  
But now there was Dean. He had been a guilty pleasure. Something he’d allowed himself to indulge in that was just his. To watch from afar as a symbol of humanity. Then he’d fallen that night and Castiel had been lost. He found that he couldn’t just observe anymore. 

He stokes the skin on his arm, imagining what it would look like with Gabriel’s cuff. 

What was he to a human boy like Dean? Dean would grow to a man and find a compatible human, possibly have his own family. There was no place for him there, no matter how much he argued internally over it. Even now, every visit felt like a battle. He had to fight for every step forward.. he should really just leave him be. But when Dean looked at him with that quirk of his lips and bright green eyes.. he knew he’d still come back for more. Until Dean wouldn’t have him.

“I’m sorry,” Dean prays now. Castiel waits, but there’s nothing else.

He breathes out through his nose and points his face to the sky. Pushing off the ground, he flies straight up, faster than he should. So fast, his eyes tear and his back muscles ache after only a few minutes. 

Maybe he would spend some time away from here and all its pain and confusion and desires. 

Humanity.. it was the source of every sorrow he’d ever known. 

+++ +++ +++ +++ +++ +++ +++ +++ +++

Dean finally fell asleep sometime in the night. When he wakes up to loud knocking on his door he still feels exhausted.  
“Get dressed and be downstairs in five minutes.” His dad’s voice booms from the other side and dread washes through him all over again.

He throws on the first thing his hands touch in his dresser drawer and shuffles downstairs, each step seeming too loud. He felt like he’d been in a protective bubble behind his locked bedroom door. Now he was exposed and vulnerable. 

His dad is waiting at the bottom with his jacket on. He looks up when Dean reaches the last step.

“Dad, I -“

“We’re going out.” He tosses Dean his jacket and opens the door.

“John.” His mom walks slowly from the kitchen. Dean glances her way then back at his dad.

“Now.” He says, leaving the door open and Dean walks through it like a prisoner on the way to the gallows.

His dad hangs back to talk to his mom for a few minutes while he leans his back against the Impala. Staring up at the sky, he watches a hawk circle and feels a pain behind his sternum. He straightens when the front door is slammed and his dad stomps towards him. 

“Get in.”

They drive but Dean doesn’t pay attention to where they’re going. He just breathes in and out, like his life hinges on what his dad says next. It’s awful being constantly tense waiting for anything but he keeps silent. Zoning out, he imagines all the possible scenarios for how this talk will go and eventually looks up to see they are pulling into what seems a random dirt road until after another turn, it’s very apparent where they’re going. The car pulls off and they get out.. roughly where his dad had taken him to shoot the first time forever ago.

Dean waits by the car door while his dad messes around in the trunk. For an insane moment, he envisions his dad shooting and burying him out here in the middle of nowhere. He jumps when the trunk slams and his dad walks past him without a word. John sets up targets along the dilapidated fence like he did before but this time they’re all cans, half the size of the gallon tomato one from last time that he hadn’t been able hit.  
Dean looks at the targets and then at his dad when he comes to stand next to him.

“I can’t..”

“Can’t what?” John turns to him with unyielding eyes.

“I can’t hit any of those. They’re too far. Too small.”

“You can and you will.” He’s handed a full box of shells. “Now start.”

Dean loads the clip carefully and slides it home. Glancing one last time at his father, he brings up his arm and tries to remember his dad’s instruction from last time. Breathing out, he aims. He fires. He misses.

“Again.”

He aims, he fires.. he hits absolutely nothing. On and on, he continues to line up and breathe out slowly and not so much as graze one. He manages to hit the fence they’re sitting on a few times but that’s it. It’s not even satisfying with his dad staring ahead and occasionally sipping from his flask. He goes through the whole clip before he drops his arm and says, “Dad, I’m not gonna hit anything that far away.”

“We’re not leavin’ till you do.”

Dean reloads, biting the inside of his cheek. After burning through another clip, he reloads without being told. Why were they here? Was this some kind of punishment? Was his dad waiting for him to break down.. because he be damned if he would now.

He stubbornly keeps firing though his fingers are stiff from gripping tightly and blisters are forming but he forces his face blank. While making his way through the fourth clip, his dad starts talking again.

“I don’t wanna know who he is or where he came from... I just want you to say it’s over.” 

Dean’s quiet. Clenching his jaw, he fires another shot. “I don’t want to ever see him again, Dean.”

He focuses on the tomato can like his life depends on it so it’s something other than his dad’s words.

“Dean.”

His dad is waiting for something but he ignores everything else for a moment as he breathes out and… Hits one! It leaks red fluid out of a small hole he can barely see. He blows out a disbelieving breath.

John turns to look at it for a few moments before reaching into his pocket and grabbing another box of shells.

“Do it again.”

He suppresses the protest he was about to make before it can leave his mouth and pops the clip to reload. If this was some kind of manly man test.. he wasn’t going to act like some weak bitch. He could be fucking strong and he wasn’t going to cry uncle or whatever the hell his dad expected. 

Two hours later and his dad finally says enough. Dean lowers his arm and pries the gun out of his bent shaky fingers. It takes all of his will not to drop to his knees and clutch his arm. His shoulder aches and his fingers feel like they’re on fire.

He slowly curls and uncurls them after his dad takes the gun and stumbles behind him back to the car. He’d hit two other cans and he didn’t give in. Small victories that made the walk back a little easier on his tired body.  
When he gets in the car, his dad reaches into the glove compartment to find a tube of Neosporin and a roll of gauze to give to him. He doesn’t start the car but just watches Dean dab it on where his skin is rubbed raw. When he fumbles while wrapping the bandaging with his other hand, his dad takes it from him and efficiently ties it off.

Dean takes his hand back and turns to look out the window away from his father.

“Son..”

He fixes his eyes on a tree outside and decides not to take his focus off it no matter what his dad yells at him. After a few seconds, the car starts and they drive the back without another word. 

When they get home, Dean immediately goes up to his room and falls on his bed. His dad didn’t stop him. He’s only been up maybe four hours and he already wants to pass out again. Lying on his belly, he almost drifts off when the door opens. Dean quickly moves his hand under the pillow so when his mom comes to sit on the bed next to him, she doesn’t see it.

“I really don’t want to talk, Mom.”

“I understand that this has got to be hard.. but we need to.”

He groans and turns so he’s facing her. She smiles at him gently and says, “So who your father saw.. that was Cas?” Dean’s feels his cheeks getting red. He knew this is that she wanted to talk about, but just having her say his name and everything that implied...

“I’m not gay, okay? I wasn’t.. It was just him.”

She nods and says carefully, “I would like to meet him if you’d feel comfortable.”

“It was a mistake. I told him not to come back.”

“Is that because of your father?” When he tenses, she says, “I’m sorry he overreacted, but Dean, if this is part of you then that’s okay. We love you either way.”

“Yeah well dad-“

“Your father, too. He’s.. he has some growing up to do but he’ll come around. And this isn’t about him.”

Dean swallows and turns his cheek on the pillow so he’s facing away… towards the window. She leans down to kiss the top of his head then quietly leaves him.

When the door clicks, he gets up to grab the fairytale book off his shelf and lays on his back in bed. Taking out the black feather, he stares at it for a long time. He rubs it across his lips and under his nose trying to inhale some vestige of Cas’ scent. His eyes get shiny and his chest feels tight. God, after that shit today with his dad, looking at a freaking feather can make him suddenly feel fucking pathetic. He puts it back in the book carefully then tosses it under his bed. 

At school on Monday, he sleeps his way through the first three periods, failing a quiz and completely forgetting an essay that was due. He sits at a picnic table near the lunchroom, purposely choosing a place Charlie wouldn’t be. He’d been avoiding her all day because seeing her.. he’d have to talk about it and he’d rather sit here feeling miserable instead.

“Why so glum, baby?” Pamela stretches along the table in front of him. 

Dean shrugs and glances up at her.

“Anything I can do to make it better?” She grabs his hand to stroke his palm with a black nail-polished fingertip. 

He watches her as she licks her bottom lip and says, “Ya know, I was real disappointed when you never came to find me.”

“Yeah?” Dean sighs and tries to stow all his weariness to smile up at her. “What’d you have in mind, Sugar?”

They end up in the roomy back seat of her El Dorado. She pushes him on his back and climbs up to straddle him. Pulling her shirt over her head, she reveals a black lacy bra they shows off her soft round flesh. When she unbuttons his jeans, he closes his eyes so he doesn’t see her dark hair that reminds him of His. She’s soft in all the right places, not hard and muscled. Her breathy noises are nothing like Cas’ impossibly deep moans. She mashes their lips hard. Her weight, though lighter, covers him. 

Dean quickly flips them so he’s on top and not the one pressed into the seat. He could do this, dammit. She makes a happy purr while rubbing him through his jeans with one hand and pulling his head close with the other so she can lick his neck. It immediately reminds him of Cas. Anything she does now is tainted by a memory. No matter how he tries to just give in to the good feelings.. he can’t tune out the constant flashes of blue eyes. She nibbles his ear. Honey. Stubble. Feathers. Oil. Messy hair he loved to grab.. Fuck. He winces when she bites his neck and props himself up with straightened arms.

“Hey this um.. this isn’t gonna work.”

She laughs once all throaty and tries to catch his lips again.

“No, look. I’m sorry, but I made a mistake.”

She tilts her head and even that sends him a pang of memory and regret.

“Tell me it’s not Barbie.”

“It’s not.”

“Alright,” she blows out air. “Damn shame with that cute ass of yours.” She sinks her fingernails into his butt and smirks and then they awkwardly disentangle.

That night, his mom, Sam, and him eat dinner like nothing happened. His dad stayed out late and that was fine with him. When Sam asks Dean for a new drawing on his cast, it takes his mind off feeling shitty for a while.

Later in bed, he’s half-awake and for a moment thinks he's still dreaming when he hears the rustle of feathers.

He sits down beside Dean instead of at the end of the bed.

“I told you not to come.”

“I am being disobedient.”

Dean smiles because he can’t see it then schools his face and sits up. Cas is sitting too close and it’s hard not to want to remember their last time in his bed together. For days after, he smelled lingering reminders of his oil on his skin.

“You look different.” Dean says, noticing his features seemed less soft. “And where’d your..” he points to his bare arm. “thing go?

“It is not of import.” 

Dean reaches up to trace his cheek and frown, looking for the slight differences. Cas turns his cheek into Dean’s hand. “I was worried. Are you alright?”

“I’m fine.” He pulls back his hand and fiddles with the covers.

Castiel’s forehead creases. “Your father?”

“Yeah, not a great topic.” He says to his hands. The blisters are faint and mostly peeled away.

Cas presses his lips and tries to duck his head to catch Dean’s eyes. “We can be as we once were.. like you said. Friends.” Dean looks up at him. “I won’t touch you again.” He looks so earnest and all the stress and tension from the last few days just seeps away.

“What if I don’t think I can go back to just friends, Cas?” Dean cups his face while he’s still looking confused and kisses him gently. It’s sweet and tastes like finally. Relief. Like he had been waiting for him and now he was here and the last few days didn’t matter. Cas breaks away to drag lips along his jaw and say, “You still smell like me.” 

It had been days and a few showers ago that they’d been rolling around on his bed but before he can say so Dean shivers because he’s almost to that spot on his neck that makes him squirm. But then Cas pauses and hovers just above it.

“Cas?”

After a moment, he sits back and Dean blinks trying to understand the sudden pissed off look he’s getting.

“What?”

“I did not make that.”

… Oh. Right.

“Okay, look, I didn’t- Stop, where are you going?” He whispers as loud as he dares to Cas’ retreating back.

He spins and bites out a harsh, “What, Dean?”

“Cas, I didn’t do anything with her. I mean, yeah I was going to but I didn’t. It was nothing.”

“You let her mark you. When I marked you, was it nothing?” Dean just opens his mouth and closes it. “Because it was something to me.”

“Look you just don’t know what it’s like for me. How hard-“

“Did you ever consider what it would be like for me? With my brothers constantly telling me I am debasing myself with you. That to know you so intimately is an abomination.”

“Oh thanks.” Dean gets a shot of self-righteous anger even though he knows he’s in the wrong.

“And to see that.. after you let me kiss you..” Cas glares at the ground and finishes, “I should not have come. You are obviously ambivalent about your feelings and I am only making your life more complicated.”

“Will you calm the fuck down? It was seriously no big deal!”

“And neither was our time together.”

“Fuck you, Cas.” Dean shoves his shoulder but he barely moves. Gritting his teeth at how calm he is, Dean balls his fist and takes a swing at him. Cas grabs his fist mid-air and bends his arm at an angle that’s painful enough to keep him in place.. which is right against Cas’ chest. Dean tightens his jaw so he doesn’t wince at the strain on his arm and Cas breathes evenly from a few inches away. It’s almost as if they were about to kiss if they both weren’t both so damn angry.

Finally Cas says low, “You are just a selfish boy.” He lets Dean go and before the “boy” can think of something equally mean to say, he’s out the window.

+++ +++ +++ +++ +++ +++ +++  
“So how was school today?” His mom asks the next night at dinner. 

“Fine,” Dean says, pushing food around his plate without looking up.

“Well Sam, how’d you like your first week of pre-school?”

“Fine!” He imitates Dean but it’s a happy hyper sound. “The teacher liked my dragon.”

Dean smiles at his brother before going back to slowly chasing peas with his fork. By now, Sam’s cast had all kinds of graffiti doodles. After the dragon, he kept bringing Dean different color sharpies to add a superman emblem, a tiny train that circled the top, a robot.. until it was pretty eye-catching.

Awkward silence deafens the small dining room once more and Dean counts the minutes until he can leave the table. His dad and him haven’t said two words to each other since they came back from shooting, despite his mom’s attempts to include both of them in conversations. 

“So honey, how’s Cas?” His mom starts, as if it’s just another normal topic. Before Dean can tense and avoid an answer, his father speaks.

“We talked about it and Dean decided he wasn’t going to see…” He stutters over his name and that makes Dean seriously pissed, more pissed than scared.

“Cas.” He supplies, tightly.

“Sure, whatever. Anyway Dean decided he wasn’t going to see him again and we’re not going to talk anymore about it.” John takes a bite of pork chop without even looking his way. 

Dean grinds his teeth and smiles, but there’s no humor behind it. Mary frowns; shifting her eyes between her husband and son but when she opens her mouth, she’s cuts off.

“Dad, what’s a Hunter?”

John chokes trying to swallow his food. After taking a sip of iced tea, he clears his throat and says, “Excuse me?”

Dean leans forward on his forearms. “What. Is. A. Hunter? Jo said her dad was one, too. As in also.”

Mary starts, “Honey, Jo is still dealing with a lot of grief and-“

“So what’s dad’s weird culty room down in the cellar?”

“Dean, you-“

“With knives and guns and bottles of crap I’ve never heard of.”

“That’s enough, Dean.” John grounds out.

“Yeah, there’s a lot of stuff we don’t talk about, huh??” He pushes back from the table and storms off out the backdoor and into the night. He walks almost to the edge of the tree line and rubs his hands over his face.

“Cas.. I’m sorry.” 

He prays it a few more times and then just stands there folding his arms against the cold. He stands there so long, he starts to get creeped out by the dark woods and when his mom puts a hand on his shoulder he jumps a little.

“You alright?”

“Just peachy.”

“I think your father wants to talk to you about… about what Jo said if you want to come back inside.”

Dean sighs and lets her put an arm around his shoulders and pull him back towards the house. Halfway across the backyard, she starts humming like she often does. But this time... It gives him chills.

It sounds familiar and he can’t place his odd reaction until she sings “cheek to cheek” under her breath.

“Mom.” He stops where he is. She pauses and looks back at him. “What?”

“Why are you singing that?!”

“It’s a classic. You need to listen to something other than your dad’s old rock cassettes sometime.”

“Yeah, but why that song?”

“I don’t know, I seem to keep hearing it lately.”

“What? Where?!”

“Are you okay, Honey?”

“Please, just.. it’s important. Was it like on the radio or.. or was someone singing it?”

She rolls her eyes indulgently but looks off to think. “Maybe at the grocery.. No! I know. It was when I was picking up Sam at preschool. Yeah.. there was a dad there waiting to pick up his daughter.”

Dread starts to ratchet up his heartbeat. It can’t be. It’s just a coincidence. 

“What’d he look like?”

“Dean, why are you-“

“Please! Mom.. Just tell me.”

“Hmm.. Tall. Short Grayish hair.I think he was some sort of a business man by his clothes. Had an odd way of speaking too but he was very nice.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll try to get the next chapter out before too long, darlings. Also this will probably be at least 20-25 chapters. Hope you're in it for the long haul. ;)


	12. Yellow Eyes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Honey, we're just gettin' to know each other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: This chapter includes violence, torture and minor character death. C'mon, you're brave enough, right?

Dean runs the rest of the way to the door, leaving his mom calling after him. He doesn’t know what any of it means exactly but the hairs standing up on the back of his neck urge him on. When he bursts through the backdoor, his father stands up. It only takes him a second of searching his son’s face before he immediately asks, “What’s wrong?”

“I- I don’t know. There was this guy.. I forgot to tell you- after, I mean.. I think he’s like.. I don’t know what-”  
“Calm down.” John stretches out his arm and holds Dean’s shoulder while his mind races. “Now what about some guy?”

Mary comes through the door huffing and asks, “What’s going on?”

John lifts a finger from Dean’s shoulder to indicate wait a minute.

“I woke up one night and there was a man in our backyard. Um..like a week and a half ago. I think he was at Sam’s school talking to mom.”

The hand on his shoulder tightens. “What was he doing?”

“Just.. singing.” Dean knows it sounds kinda silly but his dad isn’t laughing. In fact he visibly pales and quickly turns to Mary. “What’d he say?”

“Nothing weird. He seemed..” she shakes her head before she can say nice again. “He said that he was a Pediatrician and wanted to take a look at Sam’s arm sometime. He gave me his card and said anytime I wanted to come by.. that he was always there.” 

“Anything else?”

“Just that he had a young girl himself and if we ever wanted to make a playdate-“

“Did you see her?! Was she there?”

“No. Sam came out and I said goodbye. What is it?”

John rubs his hands over his face and walks to the doorway to check on Sam who’s sitting on the floor near the tv watching PowerRangers.

“John?”

“Call Bobby.” He says, still watching Sam. “Tell him they found us. Find that card it gave you and tell him to meet me there in an hour. Then call Ellen. Take the kids.”

Mary tenses all over and Dean darts his eyes back and forth between them. “What’s going on?” 

“Dean, Come with me.” John calls over his shoulder as he walks past him and out the back door. Dean dumbly watches his mom pick up the phone before following after. It’s terrifying that his dad didn’t laugh off what he said.. that instead he’d become dead serious. When he gets out into the backyard, he looks both ways until he sees the cellar door open. 

Down the steps, his dad is rapidly loading guns and strapping knives under his jacket. More than he’d think there were spots for. 

“Dean.” John says when he sees him, not pausing in his loading. “I need you to listen up. You, Sam, and your mother are going to go to Ellen’s. Take your knife with you. If anyone other than me or Bobby shows up-” He turns and searches the shelf for a moment before grabbing a bottle and tossing it to him. “Throw this at ‘em and run like hell.”

“What? What is this stuff?” It’s clear and he holds it up to the light. “It just looks like-“

“Water. Holy water.”

Dean gives him a funny look. “What, so vampires might show up?”

John sighs and puts down the gun for a second and walks over to him. He almost closes the distance but stops awkwardly. 

“There’s no time to talk this out like I probably should have before.. but later. Later I will. Right now you protect your mother and Sam, okay?” Dean just stares at him. Protect them from what? 

“I know you’re mad at me and that it ain’t always easy between us...” While his dad stumbles over how to finish that sentence, Dean suddenly wants nothing more to see Cas right that minute. He almost jumps when John pulls him into an abrupt hug. Something had to be very wrong. Before he even thinks about hugging back, his dad lets him go and tells him to go help his mom with packing a bag.

Ten minutes later, his dad scoops up Sam in a tight hug. “Listen to your mom and big brother okay?”

“Okay, Daddy.” Sam mumbles sleepily. 

Handing him to Dean, John embraces his wife for a full minute. 

They drive off, watching their dad slam his trunk and get in to the Impala looking different. Harder. And that was saying something for John Winchester.

On the way, his mom grips the steering wheel with white knuckles and Dean’s attempts to get her to talk about it are shot down. She just shakes her head distractedly and they drive in heavy silence on the dark highway road to Ellen’s house. When they get there, he carries a sleeping Sam inside and waits while Ellen greets Mary with a fierce hug. Then she says, “Well ya’ll better come in. Dean, go ahead and take Sam to the backroom there. I made up a bed.”

“What’s going on? Jo appears around a corner in a robe.

“Nothin’. Go back to sleep, Baby. I’ll tell ya in the mornin’.”

“But-“

“Now, Joanna.”

She grumbles and shuffles back to another room. 

Then they wait. Ellen brings out coffee and they sit around just staring at each other for the next several hours. Dean’s mind ping pongs around the last few days while he fingers the bottle in his jacket pocket. Holy water.. Cas had said demons needed a human. Was this stuff supposed to hurt them? Was that what his dad was out looking for right now? That guy on the swing… was he seriously one of them? He felt like he was waiting for someone to say just kidding, but they were sitting there waiting for news of whatever the hell his dad was doing. The knife feels bulky in another deep side pocket. Could his dad get hurt? What if that had been the last time he’d see him? And he’d said they’d found us. Who were they? Why were they-

Ellen’s phone rings next to him. She nods quickly at him, so he turns and picks it up.

“Hello?”

“Dean?! Where ya’ll been? I called the house a dozen times!” Bobby shouts into the phone.

“Dad said-“

“Look your dad‘s at Mercy Regional. They found my number in his wallet and called me. High tail it over here as soon as you can.”

“Wait, weren’t you with him?”

“No. The dang fool musta gone off on his own without telling me.”

“But-“

“I gotta go. They’re taking him in now. Tell your mom!” He yells into the phone, huffing like he’s running and hangs up.

“What is it?” Mary says anxiously.

“Dad’s at the hospital. They called Bobby- didn’t you call and tell him to meet dad?” 

She gasps and rushes to grab her keys once she gets to her feet. “Your father said he would before he left.” She turns to Ellen. “Can you watch them for-“

“Go.” She waves her off. “We’ll come in the morning if he’s gonna be there a while. Call when you can.” 

Even with the constant panic over his dad, something keeps bothering him. “I thought-“

“Dean, take care of your brother.” She kisses him on the forehead and rushes out the door.

He curls up on the couch under a blanket Ellen covered him with but doesn’t sleep. When morning comes, she gets everyone something to eat and gives an edited version of events to Jo, telling her their dad was injured so they might be staying there for a while. Nothing about why they came in the first place. Not that he knew much himself. Last night when he’d asked, Ellen would only say that it was something he needed to talk about with his folks and to try to get some rest.

Once they’re all loaded into her car, they head to the formidable looking collection of buildings his dad is in. His mom had called early and given Ellen the room number so they navigate the maze of hallways until they find her.

She hugs both Sam and Dean and tells them their dad will be okay. He’s stable but still.. she turns away and starts crying. Jo takes Sam in the corner of the waiting room to play with some transformer toys he’d brought and Bobby tells the rest. John had been stabbed several times, but miraculously no vital organs were hit. He was unconscious but the surgeon was hopeful he would wake up in the next few days. In the meantime, they had IVs sending pain medicine and fluids through his body, not counting the two blood transfusions. 

Bobby came and patted his shoulder roughly, in a generic manly sign of support. Dean just looks numbly from him to his mom to Ellen.. like it doesn’t quite make any sense. After a minute, Bobby awkwardly grabs him close and Dean makes his arms move to hug him back. “He’ll be alright, Son. Your old man’s one tough bastard.”

After that, they wait all day sitting in uncomfortable hospital chairs but his dad doesn’t move. They ate hamburgers in the cafeteria for lunch. Mary spends most of the time in his room but Dean switches with her twice. During his turns, he just sits next to him, watching the machines beep and the ping that meant his dad’s heart was still going.

In the evening, they got Cuban sandwiches and waited some more. Sam was just about at his end after playing with all the toys and books they’d brought. Dean got up and said he’d be back in a few minutes. 

He walks out into the hospital’s dimly lit courtyard. Running fingers through his hair, he stares up at the open night sky with its millions of happy twinkling stars. Dean sits down heavily on a bench, elbows on his knees and holds his head in his hands.

“Cas…” He breathes out slowly. “I’m at Mercy Regional. It’s a hospital and anyway.. My dad.. um..” He chokes on a small sob that came out of nowhere. For long minutes he doesn’t know what else to say. While he’s still looking for the next words, someone sits down next to him. He thinks it’s probably his mom who found him but when a tentative arm curves around his back, its firm and muscled. Dean turns into him without looking up and buries into Cas’ warm neck, inhaling woods and a faint sweetness.

Cas’ other arm comes around to hold him tight with more confidence. He fists Cas’ shirt and holds on until he can collect himself enough to wipe at his wet face. Eventually he hears, “What happened?” 

Dean pulls back and sighs angrily, “I don’t even fucking know. No one will talk to me!” He slumps forward, rubbing his forehead. Everything was all fucked up but feeling the warmth of Cas’ leg pressed against his was the first thing that didn’t make him hurt in days. “So I know we’re not good right now but can you just like.. stay for a little while? I mean, if you can.”

He hates how pitiful that sounds to his own ears but he wants it anyway. Enough to ask, even with the possibility of rejection to make it worse.

Cas covers the top of his hand down on the bench. After only a brief hesitation, Dean turns his hand over so they lace fingers.

He doesn’t spend his time with Cas asking questions about demons like he probably should or even telling him about his father being a Hunter... instead Dean just holds his hand and enjoys the way his thumb rubs back and forth. 

When Dean sees his mom walking towards the courtyard through the glass windows, he squeezes Cas’ hand once.

“I know.” Cas slowly releases him and stands. “If you need me again..”

“Thanks.” Dean upturns his lips in what he hopes is a smile. Cas frowns but takes off before his mom opens the door. 

+++ +++ +++ +++ +++ +++ +++ +++ +++ +++

Two days later and his dad had woken a few times but always groggy and unresponsive to attempts to get him to talk. Mary stays at the hospital by his side while Ellen brings the boys to visit every evening. 

Mary’s telling them about his progress report from the doctor when Bobby says, “Ya need to go home, get some rest. I’ll stay with him tonight.” After a moment of indecision, she allows, “It would be nice to sleep in my own bed with Sam and Dean back at home. Let me just say goodbye to John, in case he’s awake.”

“Of course, take your time.” Bobby smiles and sits to watch the ballgame on the hospital tv while they wait. 

After giving his mom a few minutes, Dean says he wants to go see if his dad’s awake before he leaves. He’d yet to get more than a few moments of his dad conscious on his turns at being in the room with him. A nurse pushes the button that lets him into the patient corridors. After getting lost only for a moment, he finds his dad’s room and waits by the door when he hears his mom talking softly. When she comes out, he’ll-

“Just look at my poor hurt hubby.” Her voice sounds a little weird and it makes him turn to peek through the crack just as Mary snatches up the call button pad from John’s slow moving fingers. All he can see is the back of her blonde head as she leans forward. His dad’s eyes are open wide and face shaking with strain. 

“No, its okay, Honey.” She pushes the red button that dispenses a dose of pain medicine on the pad and John’s face slacks slightly after a few seconds. “You just relax and listen real good to Saint Mary of Winchester.”

What the hell? Dean hardly breathes as he watches his mom pats his dad’s cheek too hard.

“Don’t you worry about a thing. I’m gonna take good care of the kiddies.”

John moans once and tries to jerk his arm with the IV. Mary grabs it and keeps it at his side on the bed. 

“Now now. Let the nice meds do their job.”

His eyes bat heavily though it’s obvious he’s trying to fight it. 

“I was thinking.. Sam would make a great playmate for Lilith. You know how she acts out with she’s lonely.”

His dad’s arm lurches again but with less force this time.

“And Dean.. Mmm...”

He swallows from the door and swears for a moment his dad’s eyes find his at the crack before he blinks long again. Mary slaps him across the face before leaning even closer.

“Still with me, Champ?”

John opens his eyes and makes one last surge forward towards his mom but she just laughs and rakes fingers through his hair. Lovingly.

“Alastair is practically chomping at the bit to have Dean on his table. You remember him, don’t you? Oh wait, that was your Hunter buddy.”

She abruptly slaps him once more so his face turns with the force but he barely flutters his eyes, sinking into the pillows. When she shakes her head mockingly, Dean gets a glimpse of her face for the first time. Her eyes. They flare bright for just a second. Impossible.. but they’d looked yellow? Had he fallen into a freaking nightmare? 

“Enjoy your sleep, Johnny Boy.”

She’s getting up and his heart beats erratic. He’s choking. What? What’s going on? He walks away too fast, stumbling, not knowing what to do. What he saw. He just needs to get away from her. Away from that door and what he’d heard. Seen. He gets buzzed through the doors and sees Ellen, holding Sam’s hand and runs towards her.

“Hey, is your mom-“

“Where’s Bobby?”

“He said he had to run home and check for messages. He’ll be right back.”

“What?! He’s not here?”

Dean turns and to his horror, sees his mom walking towards them from across the hall. No time. No time for anything. He barely understood what was going on but he knows one thing he had to do. Protect Sam.

“Um.. Can you keep Sam one more night?”

Ellen gives him a look. “Well sure. I’ll ask-“

“No! She won’t say so but she’s um so tired from the last few days. Please just insist. It’s for her own-“

He cuts himself off when Mary joins them. 

“Hey! Ready to go?” She smiles and it looks just like his mom always does. He could almost believe he imagined the weird flash of yellow.

“Why don’t you let me keep your little rugrat one more night? We love having him. Go ahead, sleep in and we’ll meet back here tomorrow.”

His mom’s smile strains just a tad but only he would catch it.

“Oh Ellen, you’ve done so much already.”

“Aw now none of that. I ain’t takin’ no for an answer. You need some rest. You gotta take care of yerself too, ya know.”

She grins tightly. “Okay then. Thanks.”

“Dean?” She turns to him and he swallows. “Uh, yeah.” Now that Sam’s taken care of the panic settles in his chest at the thought of leaving with.. whatever his mom was. He watches her kiss Sam on the head.

“I wanna go home too.” Sam pouts, sticking out his lip like he’s getting too old to do. “Um, look Sammy, go peacefully and I promise we’ll play Mario Kart all day tomorrow, kay?"

Sam yawns and gives in with a “Kay.” Forcing himself to smile, he hugs him tight. He waves to his little brother until he’s out of sight.

As soon as they’re buckled in and driving, Dean starts sneaking glances at his mother, trying to see her eyes again. Mary turns to him with raised eyebrows. “What is it, Honey?”

“Nothing.” He quickly turns back.

“Dean?”

“Yeah?”

“Why did you tell Ellen to take Sam?”

Dread plummets through his stomach and he turns back slowly. “I didn’t.”

“Stop lying to me, you little shit.”

He backs towards the door and grabs the handle. There’s a click.

“Safety locks. What an age we live in, huh?”

“What… what are you?”

“What do you mean, Honey?”

“Stop it! What the hell is going on?”

“Oh careful with your words there, Baby. You really shouldn’t go using Hell with so little respect.”

Dean looks helplessly out the window to see they’re almost to his neighborhood. She’s taking him home.

“So where’s that angel you got wrapped around your little finger? Or maybe finger isn’t the right body part, huh?” She laughs like his mom never did.

“What do you know about Cas?”

“Cas? As in Castiel? Oh goody. The black-eyed idiots I had watching you didn’t recognize him. He’s just a fresh-faced newbie.”

With the mention of him, Dean starts immediately chanting his name over and over again in his head.

“Ah young love.”

Cas. Cas. Cas. Cas.

Mary cocks her head and squints at him. “No phone calls on a school night.” The last thing he sees is a flash of yellow and his mother’s balled fist before.. nothing.

+++ +++ +++ +++ +++ +++ +++ +++

Dean groans when he’s dropped down to slump against the back of a chair. Blinking slowly, he tries to get his bearings as his hands are wound together with something. He shakes his head and focuses on his mother’s smiling face.

“Howdy, Dean. Yep, still mommy. Well.. mommy-ish.”

He tries to jump up but is immediately held down by a pressure on his shoulders. Confused, he takes a second to see he’s sitting backwards on one of their kitchen chairs. He drops his head back. An upside-down face grins back at him. It’s the man he’d only seen once before.. on a swing. 

“I don’t understand. What is this? What’s going on?”

Flinching, his attention is brought down to his leg where a little girl is sitting with her legs folded beneath her and poking his ankle with his knife to make small dots of blood through his socks. At first, his mind doesn’t make any connections about craziness of what is happening but then he recognizes her as the kid riding by on her bike that day. And this is the singing stalker guy his dad ran after. Holy Water. Does he still have it? Would it help his.. mom? Is that still his mom? He needed his dad to tell him what to do, dammit. He tries to ignore the small pain of his leg to face her.

“What’d you do to my mom?”

“Oh she’s in here. You should really be worrying about number one right now though, Dean. Your daddy landed you in a world of hurt. And don’t think because you got your bouncing baby bro outta the way that he’s safe.”

“Naughty boy.” The young girl waggles a finger at him and gets to her feet. Handing the knife to creepy behind him, she brushes off her dress daintily. It’s white today, sleeveless with a ribbon around the middle to make a huge bow in the back. Cute. Like she’s dressed up for Easter.. except for all the crimson stains. In the hospital, his mother.. it.. had said two names. Alastair was meant for him and Lilith.. 

“Sammy promised to be my friend.” 

“No! Leave him alone!” 

She folds her arms and hmpfs in a gesture that should be adorable but the blood splattered on her hands and arms ruin the effect a little. “But I’m bored. My last friend isn’t much fun anymore.” She twirls in place to show her dress with its handprints at the bottom. They’re stark red and shocking against the white. And small. “He got me allll dirty.” 

“You sick bitch! Don’t you-“

Dean winces at a sharp bite of pain at the top of his shoulder. “Should you really be yelling right now, Dean? Your generation is so impatient.” The man behind him, Alastair presumably, taunts and drags another shallow slice across his back to his other shoulder. “The yelling comes later.”

Mary smirks. “Nice knife, by the way. A gift from Papa Winchester?” 

Lilith plops down again, her skirt poofing around her. She dabs at the blood pooled by his shoe and draws on the wooden panels of the floor. Hearts and flowers and then eyes and mouths and large teeth.

He shivers in revulsion when the back of fingers stroke his cheek, then the hand turns so the edge of the blade takes same path. When he jerks his face away, he hears, “Such spirit. I can’t wait to get to know you more intimately.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

Raspy laughter comes from the man he refuses to look up and back at again. “To know what makes a person scream or howl.. break completely and lose the ability to speak.. is there anything more intimate?”

His mom scoffs. “Hmm, I don’t know, Al. Our boy’s been rollin’ around with a genuine Servant of the Lord. And ain’t that a little.. sacrilegious? Probably aren’t earning a lot of points with the big guy for that one.”

To hear the mocking chortles in the voice that soothed him after every scrape and read bedtime stories before he fell asleep.. was almost worse than the infrequent bites of the knife at his back.

Dean’s grits his teeth through a deeper jab. “Shut up.” He growls. “You don’t know anything about it.”

“Mama Mary is disgusted by you, did ya know that?”

“That’s not true.” He says with less confidence and for a moment doesn’t feel the burning from over a dozen wounds.

“’Fraid so, Dean baby. Her little boy playing bottom bitch to-“

“Stop it! You’re lying! You are nothing like my mother. You’re..” He gulps down a scream when the knife cuts a long strip downward. Sweat drips from his face and blood makes his shirt stick agonizingly to his back where it hasn’t been cut to ribbons. “You’re a demon.”

“Who said you were just a pretty face.”

“I could make it prettier.” Lilith licks her lips hungrily from the floor. It’s awful and disturbing on a soft child’s face. This had to be some bizarre nightmare. 

“Why are you doing this to us? What do you want?”

“Oh well that one’s easy. See your daddy had the bad luck to crash a pretty important party we were throwing. One with a VIP guest. Lemme tell ya, rituals for that type of shindig can’t just be thrown together every millennia. Planets aligning, lunar cycles, the right saint’s bone.. it’s all a bitch to work out. And there we were all ready with our party hats on, cake lit and..” her voice turns hard now. “Two bumpkin hick hunters come and blow the surprise.”

She paces in front of him, sneering at Dean when he cries out from a sudden deep twist of the tip of the knife at the back of his arm.

“That’s not the sorta thing you can just say water under the bridge about.. Dean?” 

It’s getting harder to concentrate on all the words she’s saying. They start to bleed together.. like he’s bleeding…

He vaguely feels a sting against his cheek. A slap probably but it only makes him lift his head briefly. “Ya listenin’, Buddy?” She tsks and cocks her head but his eyes keep closing. If she’d just let him rest his head against the back of the chair.. maybe..maybe then..maybe he’d wake up.. and.. 

“I don’t think you’re paying enough attention, Sonny. Here, Al. I think your aim is off. I bet his soft spot is a bit..” He sees her arm come back over his head with the knife before she suddenly flips it mid-air and plunges it into her own stomach, smile never faltering, “Higher.”

Dean screams and thrashes in place, not even sure what he would do if he got free. The demon is doing it within his mom, but still he fights upwards against the stone grip, not feeling the cuts he’d stopped counting.

“Ohh,” Lilith makes a noise like she just saw a neat trick.

“That got a reaction.” Alastair chuckles low.

“Tickles. Yeah mommy felt that one.” She pulls the knife out as Dean watches in horror and rubs the bloody flat of it over his cheeks to smear over his face. 

“You fucking bastards!” He fights until he’s too weak to buck up again and slumps against the chair, heaving. 

The demon wearing his mother’s face bends down and says from an inch away, “Honey, we’re just getting to know each other.” Her eyes flash and he closes his so he doesn’t have to see her anymore. 

For a few miserable minutes, Dean drifts with voices murmuring above his head. He’d been tugging on his wrists the whole time but they just felt rubbed raw. He couldn’t see if he made any progress or not. Doesn’t matter. This isn’t real. None of this can be real. None.. 

The next second, he thinks he’s dreaming because there a thunderous howling and when the pressure on his sore shoulders disappears, his head lolls back to see a pillar of black smoke moving above his head. When the thing in his mom grins and runs past him out of sight, Dean instantly gets a burst of energy and starts tugging hard on his wrists. After only a few seconds, they break apart and he scrambles inside his jacket for the bottle of Holy Water. No sooner do his fingers touch it and a small body barrels into him from the side, sending him to the floor. He tries to focus through the searing pain to get to his feet but Lilith pounces on him again before he can get up. She scratches wildly at his face, then his arms when he brings them up to cover his head and push back without any effect. Keeping one arm up, he searches the ground with his hand until he feels what he hopes is the bottle and brings it up to smash into her head without hesitation. She screams in rage and pain, twisting away even as he turns and scoots as far from her as he can get. 

He gets to his knees, panting and dizzy. When an arm hooks under his elbow, he cocks back his fist but sees Cas’ face only a second before he swings. 

“Cas?”

“Move, Dean!”

He’s hauled to his feet and half carried-half dragged to the stairs. Cas pushes him ahead of him so he stumbles up towards the second floor. He hears Cas grunt but when he pauses to look over his shoulder, he’s told to keep going. He makes it to the third floor but when he turns back, the stairs from the second to the third floor are empty.

C’mon, C’mon, C’mon. He thinks over and over. Please. C’mon!

Cas slams into wall with his shoulder at the second floor landing and runs up the last stretch, three at a time. 

“Go!”

Dean quickly walks backwards, not taking his eyes off him until he touches his doorknob and opens it. He waits and only crosses into it when Cas is almost in front of him. There are several shadows on the wall leading down the stairs.. many feet pounding up the way to them.

When Cas pushes him firmly inside and closes the door, he immediately turns and digs his fingers into one of many wounds on his torso and starts painting a symbol on the back of his door in blood. Squiggles, circles.. it makes no sense in his hazy brain. If he could just sleep a whi-

“Dean!”

Cas is in front of him, sitting back on his haunches looking worried. He’s on the floor.. he must have slid down..  
Cas is trying to talk over his mom from outside his door. Why.. that doesn’t make sense. 

“Dean. Honey. You know you have to leave the door open when you have a boy over.”

“Dean! Please, we don’t have long. Can you hear me?” Cas yells at him from an inch away. Why is he yelling? Everything hurts and its getting so.. freaking.. cold. Cas is warm. Maybe he’ll come closer.. make it better..

“You’re alone, aren’t you, Castiel? Do the numbers, kid. Why don’t you cut your losses and pick a new boy toy, huh?” There’s a grating noise like something sharp being dragged along the other side of his door.

“Cas? I missed you, ya know.” Dean mumbles with his eyes shut.

“I need to know if there’s anyone else in the house. Sam?”

“No.. just..” He shakes his head to clear it some. “Just her.” He gestures vaguely back at the scraping noises.

Cas pulls Dean to his feet and holds onto his wrist to keep him walking with him towards the window. The window. Where Cas comes from. And where he leaves. They’re going to leave. They can’t leave her. Not with those monsters.

Dean jerks his arm back and tries to make a coherent sentence. “No Cas! We can’t.. my mom’s here. We can’t leave her.”

“Castiellll..” His mom sing-songs. “Give ‘em to me before I have to take him.”

Cas has blood smeared all over his arms and front but he doesn’t show a bit of weakness when he grabs Dean’s arm again firmly. 

“Cas, Please!” Dean continues struggling until Cas finally throws him over his shoulder and strides towards the window. The door splinters and he sees his mom’s face one last time, twisted in rage with burning yellow eyes before they’re lifting up high in the air. 

Over his lawn they fly with a handful of people staring up at them with black eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know for some of you this might have gone in a darker direction than you were perhaps expecting. I hope you trust me to make you smile and pant again. 
> 
> Also, it looks like chapter updates are taking about a week now as they get longer. Usually towards the end of the week(Friday to Saturday-ish). Hope you're still with me, darlings. I love you all dearly.


	13. Next Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s time to grow up.

They fly for several minutes with Cas carrying him over his shoulder. Blood drips from his hanging fingertips to fall miles and miles down to the blurry ground. He already feels like he’s going to throw up so he keeps his eyes shut and everything seems to be fading into the background. Dean only jerks back to the present when they suddenly drop several feet. After that, Cas rapidly descends, making abrupt falls and for a moment Dean absurdly thinks he’s running out of pixie dust. He’s not scared anymore that they’re almost just falling now with only Cas trying to glide to slow them. If this is when he dies, at least his friend is with him. His angel.

Cas hits the ground hard, rolling just before impact so he cushions Dean’s body. They skid a few feet, and Dean ends up on his side next to him with new scrapes down his arm and face. Groaning low, he almost gives in to the pull of sleep. It’d be so easy to just close his eyes and his body is pleading for it. But when he cracks an eye to find Cas, he’s not moving. Dean forces himself to crawl the few feet over to him and lift his hand to cup his face. It’s all he has energy for and even that makes him puff out air hard.

“Cas?” he rasps.

Nothing. Not even a twitch. There are bloody tears up and down his shirt and bare arms. Dean pulls up the black cloth to see the wounds on his abdomen better. With the aid of moonlight, he can tell there’s more than a handful of long gashes, some like scratches other slices and one deep hole on his side. He’s bleeding.. just like any human does but they’re rimmed in black with angry red streaks that crawl along the skin surrounding them. Like some kind of infection.

Dean sucks in a breath and summons the energy to cock back his hand and slap him across the face.

“Cas!”

The angel jolts up and suddenly has a shining blade in his hand, while his other grips Dean’s throat.

“It’s me!” He coughs. “Cas!”

He releases him and drops back down instantly. “Sorry,” he sighs and it sounds strained. Dean doesn’t answer, just falls back too, half on Cas’ arm. Exhausted. Done. Cas is okay. Now’s a good time to sleep. Cas is warm beneath him. He mutters something unintelligible and turns his face into his shoulder, trying to not to touch his chest and accidentally hurt him worse.

“Dean.”

“Hmm,” he mutters.

“You’re hurt. I am reasonably certain that if you fall asleep..” he winces as he shifts so Dean’s head is fully on his shoulder and wraps his arm around him and that’s even better. 

“Dean. Please don’t sleep. I.. I don’t think I am able to heal you right now.”

“Shh, Cas. Everything’s gonna be okay,” he says with his eyes shut, inhaling him and feeling warm for the first time in what seems like forever.

“Everything’s.. okay..”

Dean thinks he whispers it again but it might not have made it to his mouth. He sinks into Cas like a pillow and just lets everything go.

+++ +++ +++ +++ +++ +++ +++ +++

Dean’s woken by weak morning sun in his face. There’s ice-crystals melting on the grass from the night before but oddly he’s not cold. When he tries to push up, he realizes why when he feels the weight of soft feathers surrounding him. His whole body is stiff and whenever he moves, his back screams in protest as the skin pulls with movement. When he looks down, he watches Cas’ chest rise rhythmically but very shallow. Cas said he didn’t sleep..

Dean checks the wounds under his ripped bloody shirt. They’re closed but still ringed with deep red. Most of the black is gone which has to be a good thing, right? When his chest expands suddenly, Dean looks up to see him blinking and frowning back at him. 

“You.. alive?”

“Surprisingly.” Cas props himself up on one arm with a pained grunt and pushes Dean’s shoulder so he faces away. Poking at Dean’s back until he sucks in through his teeth, Cas sighs and drops his hands.

“Well, at least you won’t die.”

“What’d you do?”

“I healed you as much as I was able, which was not very much. I lost consciousness before I was sure if it was enough.”

“What did that to you?” He watches Cas inspect his own ugly gouges. 

“Demon Blade. They’re forged in Hell from the remains of broken souls. Demons use-“

“Demons. Cas! We have to go back.” Dean grunts as he tries to get to a knee. “My mom..”

“Dean. I’m.. I am sorry.”

“Don’t say sorry. Say you’ll take me back.” He gets to his feet, ignoring the agony of his body and looks down at Cas, waiting. “C’mon, dammit!”

Cas sits up fully but stays on the ground. “I can’t take you anywhere right now. And I’m very sorry Dean, but I can’t do anything for your mother either. The demon has most likely left her by now.”

“But that’s good! You can heal her! Hurry and- What the fuck is wrong with you? C’mon!”

“Dean.” He stares up at him until the panic and denial start to war in his mind. “But she was talking. It, whatever, was talking..”

“The moment it vacated her body as a host.. she was gone before we left, Dean.”

He sinks to his knees and his shoulders shake trying to wrap his head around a world with his mom broken and bleeding back at their house. When he feels a hand touch his shoulder, he knocks it away and grips what’s left of Cas’ bloody shirt and yells in his face. “Then what good are you?! A fucking angel and you can’t fix her?” He pushes Cas away only to punch him a second later. It hurts his entire body but he just balls his fist again. Cas lets him do it again before grabbing him around the shoulders and holding him right against him. He fights and bucks and twists, trying to get free to hurt him more until finally he’s too drained to jerk back anymore. 

Dean silently sobs and brings his arms up to encircle Cas’ waist as he gives into falling into his lap, losing his will all at once.

“You never got to try her pie.” He gets out before his voice cracks. “And now you never will.” It’s a ridiculous thought that may have come from some sort of shock but all he can think in now is small things that will change. Like how she won’t be there to sing in the mornings or make him soup when he’s sick or go with Sam to get his cast off at the doctor’s soon or a million other things that he’d always taken for granted.

Cas strokes his hair, high above his tore up back and lets him babble and cry until he feels numb. He’s not sure what parts are in his head and what was out loud but now he’s quiet and thinking about the ugly twisted things that did this to him. To his family. 

“When you’re okay enough, heal yourself so we can get back. Not me.”

Cas hadn’t answered the whole of the time he was losing it but now his hand stills and he says, “I should be able to do both soon.”

“No. I want the scars.”

Cas is silent at that but goes back to running fingers softly through his hair. With his head in his lap, Dean stares out at the trees feeling detached from a world with vibrant green leaves that tremble in the sunlight. 

“You coulda died too. Because of me… You should have left me there.” He says, voice sounding hollow.

“They would have killed you. Eventually.”

“It doesn’t matter now,” Dean mutters with weariness.

“It matters to me.” 

A few hours later, Cas takes him to the edge of his woods and makes him stay out of sight while he checks the house. When he returns he says, “They’re gone. A man and your father are in your house. Neither of them are demons. The one that was in your mother is gone.”

For just a second, Dean gets a pathetic surge of hope but when he sees Cas’ grim expression he looks back towards the house. “She’s really gone then.” He can’t say dead yet. He walks past Cas without another word and crosses into his backyard. It looks the same with Sammy’s sandbox, the swingset, their grill.. only last night there’d been a group of possessed humans standing right here.

When he gets to backdoor, it’s open. He walks through to hear the cock of a shotgun. Dean slowly turns to his left to see Bobby. “Dean?”

“Yeah.” He acknowledges, softly.

“Dean!” His dad walks slowly towards him, pale and ashen. He’s wearing jeans under a hospital gown and unlaced boots. He touches his bloody face where the demon had rubbed the knife on him after stabbing itself. His mom. 

“It’s not mine. It’s… hers.” 

For a second, John’s face gets hard and he flings an open flask at him. Dean flinches but its just water. Bobby keeps the shotgun on him but when he doesn't howl or hiss, his dad grabs him up in his arms, even though he makes a pained noise doing it. “I thought they took you.”

Past his dad’s shoulder, he can see the outline of a body under a sheet. John holds him for a long time, his body shaking with sobs. This may be the first time he’s ever seen his dad cry. He would cry too but he doesn’t have any tears left. Now it’s like there’s just an awful void inside him. He hisses when his dad grips too close to one of the slices on his back. John turns him away to see all the bloody slashes on his shirt. “What happened?!”

“I’m alright.”

“How’d you-“

Bobby interrupts his dad with, “Will you sit down at least before you fall on your ass? We need to get you back to the hospital.”

“No! Not going back there.” His dad says, putting a hand on Dean’s shoulder to steady him as they walk towards the couch. “You can patch me up.” He swipes a half-full bottle of whiskey off the counter on the way and takes a swig of it. “Then we’re going after them.”

“Yeah, because changing bandages in the army is just like patching someone up after major surgery.“ 

They maneuver his dad down slowly with cushions to prop him up. When Bobby lifts up the hospital gown to look at the medical tape and gauze, John angrily pulls it over his head and throws it across the room. “Check Dean.”

“You need to rest. And stop drinkin’ on that!” he grumbles, grabbing the bottle out of his hand and gulping down a few swallows himself. Bobby sits behind Dean on the couch and lifts up his shirt to examine his cuts.

“Tell me, Son.”

Dean wets his lips. “His name was Alastair,” he says watching his dad clench his jaw down hard. “The one I saw before. He.. did my back. They called the little girl Lilith. There was something in mom.. it had yellow eyes.”  
Closing his eyes, John lays his head against the back of the couch. Bobby works in silence, cutting strips of medical tape and setting out white squares of gauze on his knee.

“I got away, ran into the woods.” Dean chews his lip, not knowing how else to sum up the awful panic and violence of last night. Even now it’s a jumble of cries and blood, ugly laughter and adrenaline. When his dad keeps his eyes shut and doesn’t answer, Dean thinks he fell asleep or maybe passed out. His attention strays to the sheet again. There’s a red stain in the middle of it. He can’t pull his gaze away from it, even as his dad starts talking. “I wish to God I had told Bill Harvelle to go to Hell.”

Bobby sighs loudly from behind Dean, dapping something cold over skin. “Don’t do this.”

“They were demons. You understand that, Dean? Demons. I-“ He chokes on a sob and has to stop. “I was a Hunter.. before I met your mother. My father was too. Showed me about all the ugly shit that’s hiding just outta sight. Bill and me, we’d work together sometimes. But I gave it all up for her.” Tears run down his cheek and he hasn’t once turned to the floor where her body.. where she was. Where Dean can’t look away from.

He holds his hand out towards Bobby. 

“No.” 

“Give me the Goddamn bottle, Bobby. Now.”

Bobby reaches around Dean and shoves it at his dad. “Here! But don’t come cryin’ to me when yer liver shuts down!” After placing the last piece of tape on his back, Bobby gets up and stomps outside the house without another word.

Taking several more gulps, his dad sniffs and says, “Right after Sam was born, Bill comes to me for one last job. One. Last. Time.” He slurs a little now when he punctuates each word. “Something big was going down and… God forgive me, I went. Wanted to. I actually missed it.”

The bottle tips up again and his dad sinks a little deeper into the cushions. “She was so beautiful. White dress with her hair up.. she looked like an angel.” He smiles through his tears, “They got the flowers wrong and she was so mad..”

The next half hour is like that. Random half-thoughts from his dad, trapped between happy memories and the nightmare of a night that lead to today. Through slurred curses, he mumbles about pentagrams on the floor in blood, an old church, Bill screaming and one name over and over. Azazel. He has a moment of clarity before passing out. The last thing he does is grip Dean by his collar so he drags his eyes away from his mother’s body. “Dean. I shoulda told you before. I shoulda been preparing you. You gotta understand.. I didn’t want this life for you. I..” He shakes his head and blinks feverish, glassy eyes, “but they took that away. Now-now I gotta teach you to fight back! To hunt them! To want these sons-a-bitches as much as I do! We’ve gotta take ‘em out, Dean!”

“Okay. It’s alright, Dad.” He pats the hand that’s fisted in his shirt and pushes him back so he slumps against the pillows, wincing.

“It’s time to grow up, Son.” He whispers with his eyes shut before his mouth slackens. Dean covers him with a blanket. Bobby comes up behind him. “I’ll watch over him. Go get some sleep if you can. We’ll..” He looks at the sheet covering his mom. “We’ll handle everything when he wakes up.”

Dean feels like he’s aged a decade as climbs up the stairs. He passes the bloody smear on the second landing where Cas had slammed against the wall, pushes open his broken door with the long scratches from a knife, walks over a huge pool of blood where he had sat exhausted and.. dying. There’s a trail of bloody footprints tracked through one deep red puddle all the way to the window. He sits on the edge of his bed for what seems like hours but is probably not very long. When he prays.. it’s just his name, once.

He’s only a few minutes, as if he was waiting. Cas sits beside him so his leg touches his and takes his hand, lacing their fingers. Dean not only lets him, but squeezes him so it almost hurts.

Staring at the window, he says, “We’re leaving. My dad’s pretty out of it.. but I got that much.” 

Castiel is quiet, but squeezes back now. 

“I didn’t say so before.. but thanks.”

“Don’t thank me. I failed you. Your mother still-“

“Yeah, we’re not gonna talk about her. I just.. that wasn’t your fault.”

“It is. Why else would demons come after you? Your family? I believed I had been so careful on my trips to you.”

“It wasn’t you. There’s this whole fucked up story with my dad.” He waits a minute, trying to think of what else to say. “He needs me. We’re going after them, Cas.”

“You’re going to become a Hunter. Like your father before you.”

Dean turns to him surprised and their eyes meet for the first time. Cas’ blue ones are steady and his face is at its most stoic.. like in the early days of his first visits.

“Yep. Family Business.” He laughs bitterly up at the ceiling.

“If you ever need me..”

“Yeah…” Dean sighs. “I’ll miss you.”

Cas smiles but it’s gone before he’s even sure he saw it. 

“Maybe I’ll see you again. Someday.”

“Perhaps.” Cas says, frowning at the ground and releases his hand. 

“I’m not gonna say goodbye. Just.. just leave like you used to, kay?”

The angel thinks for a second then nods. 

Dean clears his throat and only sniffs once. “So Cas, you gonna come back again?”

“If you would like, Dean.”

Dean tries to smile but he doesn’t quite pull it off. When Castiel turns away, Dean grabs his shoulders. When he lets go.. he’ll be gone. Cas looks back after pausing only a moment and cups Dean’s face. The kiss is chaste. Sweet and a little damp from his tears but it’ll be the one Dean remembers most.

“Next time, then.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A moment of silence for poor Mary Winchester. Promise next chapter will be less gloom and doom. Also there's going to be a time jump. I'll try not to make you wait too long for it, darlings.


	14. Growing Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As time passes, it gets easier..

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so very long, my darlings. It ended up hella lengthy. Hope it was worth your wait.

The first year is the hardest. 

Dean has to learn to shrug off things like school, schedules, possessions, friends, home, normalcy, family… 

In the beginning, Sam is with them. John brings back greasy takeout in the evenings after they’ve sat around all day watching cartoons on a small box tv while Dean practices cleaning and taking apart guns. He doesn’t tell them where he goes, just repeats over and over, if he’s not back by evening to call Bobby. Not to answer the door. Not to answer the phone unless it rings once first.. but it never rings at all. 

Mostly, it’s just boring. Dean imagined it… differently. Instead of learning to hunt, he pretty much spent the day guarding his little brother, who seemed out of touch with their surroundings most of the time. The small room begins to feel claustrophobic since they’re not supposed to leave. They’d traded in a house and rooms of their own for a dingy, cramped motelroom. All they have in the world can fit in a duffel bag each. Dean crammed a few extra toys and books for Sam in his and though it took up space, hid the fairytale book with the feather in it at the bottom of his. 

Dean’s the one who takes Sam to get his cast off, holding his good hand in case he’s nervous. It doesn’t seem to matter though; Sam just stares at the shoes the entire time as the doctor saws it off. Dean tries to make it as easy on him as possible but after a month, it became more than apparent that it wasn’t going to work. He wouldn’t eat, he barely talked and when he did, it was always tearful questions about when they were going home. After the Harvelles relocated again, Sam went to stay with Ellen and Jo. His father had told him it was temporary. Safer. For the best.

Ellen said the road is no place for a boy and tried to talk John into letting Dean stay as well. Both he and his dad flatly refuse. After that, they come stay with them about once a month for a few days and he spends every possible minute of it with Sam, who doesn’t really understand. Keeps asking when their mom’s coming back. Even when he’s been told over and over... she’s not. But then how does a four year old understand something like that? It’s still hard even for Dean to understand. When he’s shaken awake in the morning, for a split second he forgets where he is and expects to smell bacon and hear her singing. But that’s never going to happen again.

Instead it’s up at 5 o’clock and he has to run. Just run. That’s how they start. His dad tells him he needs to learn to run for endurance, long stretches of time.. because something could be right behind him waiting for him to slow enough to catch. If all else fails and he loses his weapon, he has to be able to run for his life. So the first day he does… until he throws up. The next day’s slightly better. He only gags and hurts from the previous day but manages not to lose it. Within a week he’s running a little longer, a little further. 

During the day, when they’re not driving to chase rumors of possessions, they’re shooting. Every. Day. Hours and hours, he practices until his arm aches, his fingers blister and he can barely see the target anymore. His dad’s patience is non-existent. Dean’s getting pretty good at finding that quiet calm and hitting closer to the target while his dad barks at his side. It’s good to practice with distraction, he guesses. 

At night, he watches crappy tv while his dad drinks until he can sleep. Or passes out. He calls Sam sometimes on those nights and asks him about his new school, any new friends he’s made and lets him rattle on about anything and everything. It’s like talking to a piece of his old life. That’s good, he grits his teeth and reminds himself. He wants those things for Sam. School, friends, breakfast at a kitchen table. Sam usually doesn’t cry on the phone anymore and that makes him feel a little better. But not much.

He thinks of Cas every night. Where he might be. What might have happened between them if his life had never taken this screwed up turn. Dean had just gotten comfortable with the new feelings he had towards the angel before everything turned to shit. Rationally he knew it wouldn’t have really gone anywhere. If nothing else, Cas was a freaking angel. It was ridiculous even thinking that thought, let alone to imagining they would have ended up happy together somehow. Still, Dean spends long hours fantasizing how it might have been different. If they’d had time together. Time to learn about each other in this new way to add to all the other parts he already knew and then it hurt all over again. He remembered Cas had looked different the last few times he’d seen him. Slight changes. No cuff. Face somehow more defined. Everything had been fucked up at the time so he hadn’t had time to notice but now he wonders if maybe he’d.. well he didn’t know what happened after an angel wasn’t a fledgling anymore but something was going on. What changed? Was he allowed to interact with humanity now? Had he found someone else to interact with? Was he fighting more? What was he fighting? Demons? Why hadn’t Dean asked him a hundred different things the last time he’d seen him? 

And it was so lonely. With only his dad who half the time didn’t seem to even be there, mentally or otherwise. Every once in a while, Dean imagines he hears a rustle of feathers.. then he feels pathetic and throws himself that much more into shooting. Running. Knife throwing. Anything his dad will focus on him long enough to teach. Even so, sometimes he curls onto his side and pretends Cas is sitting at the edge of the bed watching him. 

When they finally get to hunting, John starts him out with ghosts. Salt n’ Burns. Easy he says.. but the first one that pops out and reaches into his chest gives him nightmares for weeks. He can still feel his heart being squeezed seconds before he fights his way gasping back to consciousness. 

Five or six more and they’re onto vampires. The learning curve is steep and terrifying. But his dad tells him he can do it.. so he does. Already wounding it, John had circled around to drive the vamp Dean’s way and when it came toward him with row upon row of glistening sharp teeth.. he aimed for its head. The machete got stuck in its neck twice but he got the job done and his father seemed proud. 

He turns seventeen on the road, driving through Oklahoma most of the day. He’s sure his dad probably forgot but that night he wordlessly hands him a new knife when they stop. Then he walks out the door and leaves Dean alone in the motel room. Not like he expected a cake or anything but it would have been nice for him to stay at least. The longer it gets from that day with his mom, the less he can see of his father. He was hard and stern before but now it’s as if every soft part of John Winchester died with his wife. Lately it’s all “go for the weakspot” and “aim for the head” and “open your goddamn eyes!” 

Dean tries to get into the late night zombie movie playing on one of the four channels but eventually turns it off. He takes out the fairytale book and opens it to see the feather, just as he’d left it. He hasn’t been able to look at it since taking it from his bedroom to pack so many months ago. Staring at it for a long time, Dean imagines saying his name, as he always does, before carefully placing it back and stashing the book back in his duffel.

As time passes, it gets easier. Less things scare him. The blood under his fingernails doesn’t make him shake because soon he’ll shower it away and move on. Their rigid training routines pay off too. Gradually he loses his baby fat with the other softer parts inside him. He can run 30 minutes straight without getting too winded now and usually hit the 12oz can at 50ft with a hand gun. While they drive, John quizzes him on monsters, most of which he can barely believe are real, and their weaknesses. When they get a lead, they track it down. Always they head for the signs of possible demonic possessions first. Usually it’s an overly-religious parent condemning their wayward child as an agent of Satan.. but they catch their first bonafide demon almost a year later to the day.

It paces in a tight circle, bound by the chalk pentagram drawn on the floor. It was called a Devil’s Trap. Bobby found it researching, along with an Anti-Possession symbol, and this was their first chance to test it out.

“You see it, Dean?” His dad says with eyes bright, more animated than he’s seen him in a long time.

The dank cellar reeks of sulfur, but still the matronly woman in front of them sniffles quietly and wrings her weathered hands. She looks like someone’s grandma with glasses that have those little strings that connect so you can wear them around your neck. She pleads off and on to be let go as John just curls his lip in disgust.

“They use us as a disguise. Like a goddamn meat suit!” He flings the flask of holy water at it so it writhes, turning back growling with solid black eyes.

John hands Dean the flask, watching it with something close to a smile. An ugly one.

“Go on.”

Dean wants to ask if he can wait in the car but he knows his dad won’t let him. And he’d just angry and he’d still have to do it. Fuck, he’s not weak. He can do this. It’s one of the things that destroy people. Ruin lives. Filthy, ugly bastard-

He flicks his wrist but he’s too far away and the water falls short. It laughs a sweet old lady laugh and makes kissy noises at him.

Dean steps closer and clenches his jaw when he does it again. This time the Holy Water splashes its chin and neck, which smokes and sizzles.

“I’ll eat your pretty green-eyes first, sweetmeat!” It hisses so spittle flies out while its eyes bug out.

John begins yelling questions at it. Saying the names they never say, over and over again. Dean watches and waits for his dad to nod.. then the screams begin again. The hairs on the back of his neck stand on end and his flesh crawls but he doesn’t hesitate anymore.

After a half hour of its flesh bubbling and stinking up the small space, it screams in anger that, “Lilith is dead!”  
His dad lifts his hand to stop Dean and they both wait. 

“How?”

“I don’t know,” it pants. “I just know she’s gone. I don’t know anything about... about them,” it says, clearly afraid to even say their names out loud.

John nods. He pulls a canister of salt out of his bag next and hands it to Dean as he takes back the flask.

In the end, it takes over two hours for his dad to be satisfied that it doesn’t have anything else to give them.. but Dean was pretty sure that was obvious after the first hour. They spend another half hour reciting Latin at it until the body is purged and the demon is exorcised. 

Its last hateful growls are to Dean. “I hope Alastair skins you before he opens you up.”

He slowly shuffles forward towards her, imagining she might pop up and try to bite him. When his dad turns around after gathering their supplies and sees him crouched down checking her pulse he says, “She’s dead, Dean. Let’s get outta here.”

Dean stumbles up the cellar stairs and out the back door of the cute corner house that used to belong to a nice neighborly widow. While his dad walks steadily ahead a ways, he turns quickly and vomits in a bush... over some little pink flowers that she probably pruned and cared for and covered with sheets in the winter to keep from dying. 

Heaving, Dean spits and makes himself move. One foot in front of the other until he’s in the car so his dad can drive them home. Home to a shitty motel room. He looks over at his dad driving, who’s zoned out staring ahead. There won’t be some heart to heart over this. It’s too close to the thing that drives them.. that ruined them.

John drops him off and drives away without another word. Dean mechanically showers, then just lays in bed. For hours. Until the sun goes down and then comes back up again. He won’t be able to sleep for days without hearing those screams. The ones he’d caused.

It’s worse for the next few weeks. John drinks more and they haven’t talked or hunted since. When his eighteenth birthday comes, Dean waits for him to pass out into a fitful sleep before taking one of the fake IDs his dad got him that he hasn’t needed to use yet. 

He walks along the road until he finds the Sports Bar they’d passed coming back. Sitting down in a booth, Dean breathes out shallowly. A few more sucks of air and he lets the happy noise of half-drunk college kids surround him and it’s.. nice. A little less lonely. Here he can pretend he’s just a normal kid. About to go off to college. Family. Hopes. Dreams. Dean watches an energetic blonde in a sports sweatshirt cheer at the tv and grab a guy to kiss enthusiastically. 

He orders fries and a beer. After squinting at his ID, they bring it to him. Dean sips it until he feels less numb. After two more, the warmth in his stomach is pleasant and he forces himself to stop imagining previous birthdays. His mom making a cake with candles and family dinner where he’d get to pick wherever he wanted to go. And Cas taking him flying…

Shaking his head, Dean notices a group of girls giggling and doing shots together in a circle. One keeps looking at him. Brown hair up in a high ponytail on her head, denim shorts and a shirt with some team on it but cut so it’s a scoop neck. Her friend pushes her forward, laughing in her ear and she walks towards him.

Maybe..

He was so tired of nothing but ugliness and horror. Day in, Day out. Blood and guts, fire and smoke and death until its gets in the creases of his palms. Behind his eyes. And now some sweet looking thing is blushing and telling him her name is Ashley. Ashley.. that’s kinda funny. Just like what his father once told him was a good normal name, instead of Charlie or Cas. 

“Hi Ashley.” He smiles and takes another long swallow of his beer. “I’m Dean.”

For half an hour, everything doesn’t hurt. She’s soft and sweet and buzzed enough not to realize it’s his first time. She’s warm.. not warm like Him but Dean slides down metal plates over any of those thoughts when they pop up. When she giggles, it’s a good noise. Something that chases away a few of the more horrific ones he has on repeat between his ears. He can’t really fault her for not smelling like strong honey or staring up at him with brown eyes instead of blue.

It’s fumbling and rushed, a lot of it kinda of a blur. After the wave of good feelings is over, Dean wants to leave immediately. He stays anyway because it seems wrong to just take off. She sleepily tries talking about her classes and asks when he’ll be back to the bar. As soon as she falls asleep, he throws on his jeans and scoops up the rest of his clothes to pad quietly out her small apartment. 

On the walk back to the motel, he tries to shake off the guilt and regret that starts creeping in. He keeps imagining he hears the rush of feathers and he knows it’s just his own mind fucking with him. 

The alcohol made his mouth dry and head spin. Dean sinks onto his bed and rolls into a ball, trying to not throw up by will alone. Clutching his temples, he focuses not on the memory of the girl he’d just lost his virginity to but the first time he kissed Him. 

“Cas.”

+++ +++ +++ +++ +++

Castiel watches him when he leaves his home with his father. When he spends his first night in a small motel a state away. When he hugs a crying Sam and gives him back to a woman.

He tries to stop but not very hard. It becomes a daily ritual, like visiting Her.

He watches Dean shoot in an empty field and fall on his butt when his father shoves him. He gets to his feet and glares while his father yells something, pointing wildly at the fence with its makeshift targets. Then Dean just nods and starts again. Castiel frowns and makes himself leave.

It always hurts to watch him. He should let him go. If Dean had left the feather then he’d have no choice and maybe it would have been easier. When Castiel had given it to him, he’d imbued it with just a brush of his Grace to preserve it and as a result he seemed to know where Dean was; or at least where the feather was. He hadn’t meant for that.. but now he counted the hours until he could go find him again.

Several months later, Castiel’s face is stoic as he pushes in the blade. From an inch away, he watches her eyes flash and face seize in shock. He stands over the small body of a child. What had been a little girl. Once. Painful black and crimson slashes pulse all over his body but he barely feels them. She hadn’t been either of the two he wanted most.. but he still felt a complicated mix of satisfaction and loathing all at once when he looked at her now. He hardly sees the blonde hair or soft face.. they’re overlaid with the ashes of the thing that rode her. Destroyed her. Like it destroyed countless others until this moment when Castiel ended it. His jaw ticks with how hard he’s grinding it.

He doesn’t know how long he’s been staring when he hears a voice from behind him. “That one of ‘em?”

Gabriel. Always Gabriel. The only one he’d let get a glimpse of how much the young human boy he’d befriended had affected him.

Castiel nods, still looking down.

“Look, we eighty-sixed the few stragglers but we should book it in case more show up.”

The ground is littered with the bodies of close to a dozen humans. Most had empty burned out sockets that had previously housed cruel black eyes, others large holes in their vessels where an Angel Blade had done the job.

“Cassie?! Gabe!” Balthazar yells with an annoyed what’s-the-hold-up kind of a look.

After a moment, Gabriel purses his lips and walks back towards his brother. “Give him another a minute.” 

 

Castiel watches him and his father enter a house where a demon had been possessing an elderly human woman. Outside, he paces and waits.. it takes too long. Hours. It’s dangerous to try and hold a demon so long. What if they’re over-powered? He almost reveals himself but finally relief rushes through him when Dean emerges, looking pale and years older. Castiel flinches when he slumps over and heaves.

That night he follows to his motelroom and stands outside his window as he sleeps. He was so close. And alone. He wanted to go to him with such intensity that his whole body ached with it. He imagined slipping in while his father was out just to lay next to him. Offer some sort of comfort, if only while he slept. For one moment he considers it.

But his reflexes were getting better. His father had been rigorously training him and even in his exhausted state.. 

Instead he spends the night staring at his hunched shoulders and the striped shadows over his face. 

Castiel watches him go into a brightly lit place where humans gathered to drink alcohol and yell loudly together. At least he would be with others for his birthday. He watches Dean drink from too many bottles, smile and touch a female with familiarity that gives him a sharp pain behind his sternum. When he follows her out to a car, Castiel flies aimlessly until he’s sitting on the sill of Dean’s old bedroom window. He broke the latch to open it. The house was locked up tight now. Dark and empty… he felt a kinship with it. It had been forgotten, left to its own devices but expected to go on standing there as if it had never been filled with joy of its inhabitants. 

After a while, he hears Dean’s voice in prayer. Saying his name. And it hurts worse knowing this was the first time he’d do it and it was after he’d given himself to another. Castiel bends his legs to encircle them with his arms. He watches the sun rise and sink several times until Gabriel comes and finds him.

Castiel doesn’t visit him every day now. Not even every week. But he still goes. He holds off as long as he thinks he can before he caves and has to.. just see him.

Dean had new muscles now. His arms and chest seemed harder. Firm. His cheeks were almost always covered in light hair, not soft and smooth like he remembered them. He imagines touching one of them with a fingertip, then gets angry at himself and leaves.

He always felt the worst after seeing him. Like reopening a wound every time. His brother’s notice and often try to get him to follow when they traveled throughout the human world. Since he’d matured, he was allowed to but he always declined. He wanted nothing from humans. Uriel tells him to stop sulking in this stupid manner and sends him on patrols. Castiel began to throw himself into their conflicts, training with Uriel even harder. He took a new vicious pleasure in ridding the earth of every demon he could find. 

Gabriel tries to get him into whatever prank he’s playing on some “deserving” mortal but he just shakes his head and looks away.

Eventually, Balthazar throws up his hands one day when they’re alone and yells, “Jesus Wept, are you ever going to snap out of this?”

Castiel frowns back at him.

“He was a human. Just one. There are literally millions just like him, Cassie! Every shape and size and flavor you could imagine. They are there for your pleasure. And you look at them. Admire them. Enjoy their many lovely qualities but you don’t fall in love with them!”

Castiel lowers his eyes and just wishes he would go away. 

“Do you even know how fleeting their lives are?” Balthazar snaps. “Like that he would be gone, buried and bones before you knew it.”

“Please leave me.” 

“Oh I’ll leave, my dear brother, but you’re coming with me.”

“I don’t want-“

“You don’t know what you want.” He comes over and braces a hand on his shoulder. “Why not just for a short while.. forget all this doom and gloom? Come try a little decadence and debauchery.” Castiel looks up at him wearily. 

“At least it’ll be better than this, right?” He pats his brother’s cheek too hard and grabs him by the arm to haul him up. “Oh and leave the jewelry at home,” he says pointing to his gold cuff.

Balthazar takes him to a large villa somewhere in Rome. He stands stonily in a corner, surveying the room full of happily talking humans. It’s confining being in such a small space. Crowded. It makes him uneasy. He rolls his shoulders to keep his wings tight to his back. They would pass through any solid objects they encountered on this plane but it was still an unpleasant sensation. The skin on his arm itches where it’s now bare. It’s the first time he’s taken it off since Gabriel gave it to him. He knew it didn’t mean much to Balthazar who seemed to mock most of their “Heavenly Purpose” these days and all its trappings but despite everything, he’d been proud of it. 

He follows his brother into a room with humans writhing and rubbing against each other intimately to loud thumping music. Balthazar is suddenly surrounded by a small group of people that seem to know him. He laughs at something a female says in his ear before turning and introducing Castiel as his cousin visiting from out of town. When a young man with tight jeans and blonde hair smiles and comes up to kiss him on the cheek, Castiel jerks back. 

He just laughs. “Don’t worry, Baby. I won’t bite. At least not until we get to know each other better.”

Castiel pinches his brow but feels a hand push him forward between his shoulder blades until he bumps into the smiling newcomer. When he turns back, bewildered, Balthazar is leaning against a wall stroking a dark-skinned girl’s cheek while another man that looks suspiciously like her twin runs a hand through his hair. 

“Yeah he’s gonna be outta commission for a while. Come with me. I want to show you something,” he grins and takes Castiel’s hand to lead him upstairs. Reluctantly, he goes. 

Once they’re outside a doorway, he tugs his hand so Castiel walks past him into a room with the only light coming from an open balcony window. He steps towards it and looks out over the city. When a hand snakes around his stomach, Castiel whirls only to be pushed back with lips pressing hard against his. A tongue seeks entrance but his mouth stays closed tight to the intruder. As he pulls back quickly, the stranger holds him by the wrist so he’s still close.

“Balthy said you’re trying to get over someone. Maaaybe I could help?” he says, cheerily.

“Thank you..” Castiel begins, flustered. “But I don’t think..”

“Don’t think. Doesn’t that just lead to feelings and pain and all that. C’mon.. you might enjoy me.” He kisses him again. When Castiel pulls back, he sees his eyes are green. Not the right shade. Not His. But still green. Balthazar must have known.

Sighing, Castiel closes his eyes. When lips touch his again, he pushes back against them. The man, who still hasn’t told him his name but he doesn’t want to really know it, makes a happy noise. “There you are.”

He goes willingly when he’s pulled back onto a bed and lets his pant be undone. Castiel gets an unwanted memory of Dean’s shaky fingers pulling at the tied cord.

“Whoa, you’re warm.” 

Dean had said that too.. Dean smirking and licking his oil off a thumb. Dean’s eyes rolling back when he’d touched him there. Dean calling his name in harsh little gasps.

Castiel sits up.

“What’s wrong, now?”

“I…” He stares at his hands and resolutely closes off the all thoughts of Dean. “I don’t know what to do.”

He chuckles and strokes a finger over his lips. “Here.. I’ll show you.”

+++ +++ +++ +++ +++ +++ +++

“Why do you always gotta leave?” Sam frowns at him with his arms crossed.

Dean ruffles his hair and tries to smile when his stomach feels sour.

“Hey, don’t be like that. I’ll be back before you know it and you’ll be beating my ass at..” He’d already forgotten the new videogame Sam showed him. 

“Aliens vs Predator.”

“Right.. that.” 

Sam looks unimpressed and wasn’t budging. 

“C’mon, Sammy. Give me a hug already before I have to go.”

Sam looks off but walks forward so he can be pulled into a tight embrace. 

Pulling away he says, “I want to hear how that Math final goes when I get back, kay?”

“Yeah, okay.” He says small before turning away to walk back into the house.

Dean sighs watching him over Jo’s shoulder as he says his goodbyes to her. 

“You need anything?” Ellen asks as she gives her hug. 

“Nah, I’m good. I’m meetin’ back up with Dad in a few days.”

“Tell that hardass to come visit us sometime. Visit his-“

“Yeah. I will, “ Dean cuts her off, knowing it won’t do any good. His dad was so single-minded.. obsessed these days. Sammy probably shouldn’t see him like that anyway.

Driving away, he waves to Ellen and Jo, seeing Sam peek out the window of an upper room. His room. 

It was trippy coming back here for a few days at a time every few weeks (or usually month). Sam was a dose of happy normalcy that didn’t jive with his life anymore. It made him slightly uncomfortable but he wouldn’t give it up for anything. 

He was due to meet back up with his dad in Nebraska but he still had time. Maybe he’d stop for a bit on the way out of town. As time went on, he’d found the booze didn’t taste so bad if you threw it back quick. When he was younger, he’d waited till his dad passed out then stole the remains. Now even though he didn’t make a big deal of drinking in front of his dad, he bought his own liquor. After a long hunt, paired with a quick roll between the sheets with some willing body.. it took the edge off. For a while. 

Dean pulls the Impala into the parking lot of a hole in the wall bar lit up for happy hour. He listens to the engine tick and looks at his phone. His dad hadn’t called. Lately he’d been having him hunt alone whenever it seemed an easy case. He made excuses to take hunts closer to Ellen’s so he could visit Sam a couple times a month when possible.

Sitting down on a stool at the bar, Dean orders a whiskey straight up. Hunching his shoulders, he sips at it and feels some of the tension leaving his neck. He’d never imagined his life would be this at 22.. staring at a wall of bottles only to go back alone to a pay-as-you-stay motel.

He still thinks of Cas every once in a while. Says his name out loud. Spitefully, he pretends it’s to make him not forget him because he never answers. Maybe he was praying to someone that wasn’t even alive anymore. He wouldn’t know. It seemed like a weird dream the farther he got from those days. That place. That life.

Surveying the room, he makes eye contact with a slender guy in khakis and a striped polo. He tilts his head and raises his eyebrows at Dean, who passes him over to look up at the tv. This happened from time to time.

The first time had been at a small bar just like this. Some overly-flirty guy in his mid-twenties had bought him a drink and asked his name. John was more than a state away and after two more drinks he worked up the courage to say yes when he’d asked if Dean wanted to get outta there. Nervous and a little drunk, Dean went with him. After a few intense couple of minutes making out in a backseat, the guy told him he couldn’t wait to be rode hard and faced away so his ass was over Dean’s lap. Dean just stared at him with his mouth open. After a quick and awkward conversation, they’d both realized that it wasn’t going to work. 

After that, he found that his build, callused hands, gruff exterior all seemed to attract a certain type of guy. Lean, fresh-faced, tight shirts and skinny jeans.. “bottoms” he’d found out from one of them. Time and again, he’d been approached as some domineering aggressive figure or once it was a hulky linebacker type that said he was pretty. When someone called him Daddy it freaked him out so bad he just stopped trying. He didn’t know much of what he’d wanted from Cas but that hadn’t been it. 

A blonde waitress smiles at him as she walks by. Now that was easier. He understood that and liked to think he was good at it.

The next day he has time to check out a possible possession before the nine hour drive in his dad’s direction. Intel from Bobby had it in the guise of a priest making demon deals with his flock. It was actually one of the smarter set ups he’d seen, to prey on the lost souls most seeking guidance.. help. But his help came with a price. 

Dean had it bound in a chair, but it was the chalk on the floor that kept it in place. When he’s about halfway through chanting the words that would banish it, something heavy whacks him in the back of the head. His vision swims for a second as he drops to his knees. An alterboy with black eyes comes into view going for the circle, the padre hissing at him to hurry. Dean managed to trip the boy and hold him down with all his weight and a knee on his chest. The next half hour was a panicked struggle as he frantically tried to remember the words by memory while fighting to keep it still. Finally, it growled and spat and violently left its host in a stream of black smoke. Shakily getting to his feet, Dean turns back to the priest’s body that was slumped and empty in his binds now. That was too close. 

As he shuffles out the backroom towards the front of the church, he sees two more small bodies, alterboys, with gaping holes in their middles. Frowning down at them, he bends to look closer but then there’s a noise out in the church office to his left. Quietly backtracking, Dean walks slowly along the wall until he finds a door with a push-bar and an EXIT sign above it.

+++ +++ +++ +++ +++ +++ +++ +++

Castiel paces as he watches Dean slouch behind the wheel of a long black car. He waits to make sure he drives off and is safe in transit once again. 

He doesn’t check up on Dean often anymore. This had been a random chance. If he hadn’t chosen today.. Dean would be dead. Dead. Gone. Humans were so unbelievably fragile. He remembers Balthazar snapping to illustrate the length of their lives.

When he’d seen the demons waiting just out of sight to corner Dean while he was preoccupied, he didn’t think. Just moved to attack, quick, before they could reach him. While he fought them in close quarters, one had slipped away. He rushed to the doorway just as Dean exorcised the two remaining demons. He’d never been so glad to hear those vile screeches they make than at that moment. 

He flies until he finds his brother outside a junkyard in Nevada. 

“Hi Castiel!” he says cheerily, pulling some red candy on a stick out of his mouth. “Watch this!”

“Gabri-“

“Shh, one minute.”

Castiel grits his teeth and turns to see a bald stocky man with tattoos on his arms running like his life depended on it. He fell mid-stride to the ground and as he shook in the dirt, his pants darkened to a black and it crept up the rest of his body like a wave. “Nooooooo… owwwl!” His voice chokes off from a cry into a howl. When he falls forward, it’s on paws and his head sways with new half floppy ears. 

“Pit Bull. Whatdya think?”

When he just stares at the panting dog, Gabriel says, “Yeah you’re right. Needs the finishing touch.” He snaps his fingers and a heavy chain appears tight around the beast’s neck.

“Why?” Castiel raises an eyebrow at it.

“He was making extra dough on dog fights. The bloody kind. Real nasty piece of work. Now he’ll know how it feels to walk a mile in their paws.”

Gabriel rolls his eyes at his brother when he doesn’t laugh. “Nevermind. Aaanyway, what lit a fire under your flight feathers?”

“Do you know of a way to banish or kill demons besides exorcism or our blades?”

“Yeah.. the old smiter’s touch.” Gabriel waggles his fingers.

“No. Another way? Perhaps a.. a weapon? Or..” He knows he’s talking too fast and Gabriel will notice but his mind is racing.

“A weapon. Hmm.. well there was a knife.”

“A knife?” Castiel repeats eagerly.

“Yeah, it was in Virgil’s keeping but it was lost during a battle a few hundred years ago. It fell into demonic hands since then.”

“Do you have any idea where to find it?”

Tilting his head coyly, Gabriel asks, “Maybe. And why would you be asking again?”

“Do you know or not?” Castiel voice is serious and steady.

“You’ve got to let ‘em go, Bro. One day he’s not going to be lucky and that’ll be the end of him. Hunters don’t exactly got a long shelf life. Especially ones with personal vendettas.. Which come to think of it is most of them.” He makes a huh noise.

Castiel grips him by the shoulders to get him to focus on him again and lets some of the anxiety and weariness into his voice. “Please, Brother.”

After a moment of an intense staring, Gabriel sighs and says, “Her names Ruby. She’s been AWOL a long time but I might have a few friends in low places. You want a wing-man?” 

It only takes three days of bloodshed and interrogating a few lower rung black-eyed demons before they’re standing over a dead blonde human. The demon inside was killed with the knife it possessed. 

“Eureka, it works!’ Gabriel flips it in the air and catches it nimbly by the handle. “Next stop, your hunky heartthrob of a hunter?”

“No.. I can’t- I won’t appear to him after so long but..” Castiel frowns at the bloody blade. “All of this was for nothing if I have no way to give it to him.”

“We can’t just tie a bow on it and say ‘From Santa.. Have fun killing demons’ ?” Gabriel says while balancing the tip of the knife on a fingertip.

“Serious suggestions would be appreciated right now.”

“Okay okay.. I might have something..”

Castiel watches out of sight as Dean grips Gabriel by the neck with a bloody stake in his hand. Appearing as his Trickster persona, he had led Dean on a fake chase for several days involving human legends turned real. Gabriel had his fun along the way but it was all about this moment when the hunter was prepared to take him out. 

“Wait wait!” Gabriel puts out his palms in surrender. “What if I gave you something in exchange for staying that beefy hand of yours?”

Dean glares for a second in distrust but asks, “What are you talking about?”

“You’re a hunter, right Buttercup? Would a knife that kills demons be of any interest to you?”

“There’s no such thing. You can’t kill demons.” Castiel hears him say but Dean’s eyes are bright with interest.  
“You sure ‘bout that, Ken Doll?”

“Call me that again and it won’t matter.”

“Would you prefer Barbie?” 

He raises the wood higher in threat. 

“Okay okay..” Gabriel waves a hand out to his side and the knife appears between them. Dean quickly twisted his wrist, disarming him so he drops it into his waiting palm. Eying it skeptically, he asks, “This? This is supposed to kill a demon?”

“Guaranteed or your money back. So we good? Even Steven?”

“Yep.” Dean grips the wood in his hand and rams it into Gabriel’s chest. Castiel winces for him. “We’re good.” He slumps to the ground. Gabriel will be annoyed later but the important thing is that Dean takes the knife with him.

As soon as he’s gone, Castiel walks up to stand over the unmoving body of his brother. “Thank you.”

Coughing violently, Gabriel groans and pulls out the wood to throw aside. “Man, your boy is a mean little shit. Just look at this.” He gestures crankily to the closing wound and bloody shirt.

Castiel smiles before he can stop himself. He can’t remember the last time he did and it feels good. “You’ll survive.”

+++ +++ +++ +++ +++ +++

Dean slowly walks up to the 3 story house he hasn’t been near in seven years. Looking around, he searches the shadows for movement as he approaches the steps. Waiting. Sulfur hangs in the air and stings his nostrils. He kicks once, twice until the front door lock busts and it swings inwards. 

Stepping inside, it’s dark except for where moonlight shines in from the slats in dusty blinds and the open doorway. Knife clutched at his side, Dean leaves the door wide and follows the wall, yanking on the cords to lift the blinds up and allow more light in. As much as possible. 

The furnishing are all layered in dust and it smells musty. Everything is familiar yet somehow foreign now, clashing with an old memory. The couch his dad had told him about demons on. The chair he’d been tied against while a knife carved into him. Most of the happy memories faded so the ugly ones could take over. They were much more real and present everywhere he looked. 

Once he canvasses the whole first floor, Dean climbs the stairs quietly. He makes a quick inspection of the second floor but they seem to be drawing it out. Even so, he stops and listens for a long minute before heading up.

Third floor and he’s staring at a door with long scratches made from a knife. He traces them with one finger. His knife. The same one that had made his back something to wince and turn from. There’s a bloody thumbprint at eye level and he wonders fleetingly if it was his, his mother’s or maybe an angel’s. The knob had never been fixed since they were leaving anyway so it pushes in easily. 

In the light let in from the window, Dean can see everything just as he left it. One of the doors is ajar and the latch hangs from it askew. Dean bypasses dusty bookshelves, an ancient Nintendo and boxes of comics to open the window fully.

This at least was not tarnished by bad memories. He could focus on the last time Cas took him out of it if he tries, but there are too many happy ones of looking up and seeing him standing in the frame. Kissing Cas on the wall just next to it. Sitting on the bench and waiting to see if that would have been one of the nights he’d visit. 

“Well look at you all dressed up in daddy's clothes. Nice night to walk down memory lane?”

Dean clenches his jaw before smirking as he turns. Three men, one large the other two deceptively small, stand stock still. Staring at him. They’re black-eyed in one blink to the next.

“And what would that be like without you guys, huh?”

“Why now?” The burley one asks, smug enough by their numbers to waste time talking.

“Let’s just say I’m trying to get someone’s attention.”

It licks its lips while the other two shift restlessly at its sides. 

“Well you’ve got it.” They rush forward just as Dean says, “Didn’t say yours, Ugly.”

It feels quicker than it is. A trick of the fight. With adrenaline rushing and blood pounding in his ears, he takes one of the lackeys out right away, pulling it close to shove the knife under its ribs. Just like always, there’s a few flashes of unnatural light that burns behind its skin. With a burst of sulfur, he lets it go to slump on the floor. Suddenly, Dean’s arms are forced behind his back by the other smaller one. He drops the knife as captain black-eyes laughs and punches him across the face. 

“Anytime now,” Dean thinks, loudly.

It punches him again before grabbing Dean by the ears to bring him close. “Mmm, I wonder what you taste like..” A wet tongue licks the length of his face. 

“Piss and Vinegar,” Dean grunts as he headbutts it. Immediately throwing his head back, he knocks the one holding him too and is released to fall to his knees. He rolls, picking up his knife and stabs lackey#2 in the side.

Hey he might actually get out of this alr-

Thick fingers wrap around the sides of his face, twisting his neck to an uncomfortable angle. Before he even think about arching his arm backwards, he’s jerked just a hair further to the side.

“Drop it.”

Clenching his jaw, he tries to weigh possible scenarios for the next 10 seconds.

“Now or I twist your head like a bottle cap.” The demon says from behind him.

Dean lets it go and it clanks to the floor. It’s close but he knows he probably won’t have another chance to get it. He’d bargained and lost. Stupid and reckless.. he’d come all this way just to die here in his bedroom after all. He should be scared but mostly he’s just pissed.

It leans down to growl into his ear. “I was going to take you to Alastair.. but he has all the fun. Goodbye, Baby Hunter.”

Dean grabs it’s wrists for one last ditch effort that he knows won’t matter when he hears it howl above him. When the fingers slacken, he falls forward. Quickly flipping so he’s on his back he pushes back with his palms to scuttle backwards away and pick up the knife. He stops moving as he sees the shocked face illuminated above him, bright light burning out its eye sockets.

Even as he blinks at the intensity of flashes, Dean’s heartbeat picks up. As he sits up on his elbows, the demon’s body collapses to the side. 

Lips twitching into a smirk, Dean starts as his bare feet, up his dark brown leather pants that hug his thighs a little tighter, over the black cord lacing and similar black sleeveless shirt but stretched tight over his broader chest. His gaze touches the wide gold arm cuff with inlaid symbols encircling his bicep. Finally, Dean raises his eyes to his locked jaw, wild wind-blown hair and crazy blue eyes, currently glaring down at him.

“Hiya, Cas.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you my beloved readers, friends on tumblr, and confidence bunnies that whisper in my ear when I need it.


	15. Brothers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So how many angels could fit in a tree? Huh, that sounds like a bad joke.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> During Dean’s childhood, the story was almost exclusively his POV. Hereafter as we enter their adult lives, Castiel’s POV will take over portions of the story. Please enjoy and thank you for reading.

“Is it arrogance or just incontinency that made you return here? You had to know it’s the one place on this earth they would come for you.” 

“Hello to you, too.” Dean gets to his feet and dusts off his hands on his jeans, which were currently splattered with dark blood. “And I was banking on you not letting me bite it. Gotta say, cut it pretty damn close though.”

Castiel frowns with lips pressed together, watching as Dean bends to nonchalantly wipe blood off the knife on the big one’s shirt.

“I wasn’t planning to come at all.”

Dean raises an eyebrow. “Why did you then, Cas?”

Castiel shifts his weight and looks away. “You left me no choice.”

Dean chuckles dryly. “Yeah and you didn’t leave me none either. Not like you ever showed when I prayed.” He throws it out there like its off-handed but it’s one of the things that hurts and hangs between them right now.

Turning back, Castiel tilts his head and says in a flat tone, “Did you ever pray to me when you needed me or just when you were lonely?”

Dean works to keep the half smile on his face and uses sarcasm to cover the sting of those words. “Ouch, Cas.” 

Breathing through his nose, Castiel seems to shake himself before asking levelly, “Why did you need to see me?”

“Straight to business, huh?” Dean nods. “Cool. Fine. Alastair’s resurfaced.” He rolls his shoulders, feeling a phantom twinge in his ruined back at even his name. “He’s supposed to be in Kansas. Maybe even in Lawrence.”

Castiel’s hand twitches at his side with the desire to release his Angel Blade. “How can you be sure?” 

With grim concern breaking his blank face for the first time, Dean stupidly can’t help remembering the first time they kissed. Right in this room. Nervous and awkward and intense…

“You look older.”

Cas seems startled, kinda confused by the abrupt observation. “I.. I’m no longer a fledgling.”

Dean takes a step closer to squint at the small changes in his features. His eyes are drawn to Cas’ mouth when he makes a quick intake of breath. Staring at his lips, Dean continues, “A black-eyed birdie told me.” 

“What?” Cas says, looking down between Dean’s mouth and eyes.

“How I know.” Dean’s lips twitch up in satisfaction to see him take a breath and blink like he’s a little dazed. 

“Look, I need help finding him. For the first time, I’m close and-“

“Where’s your father?” Castiel asks, suddenly.

Dean laughs. “I’m allowed out after dark, Cas. I’m a big boy now.. carry my own gun and everything,” he finishes sarcastically.

When Cas just waits he sighs. “The same demon gave us a lead on..” he hates that he hesitates. “..on Azazel. It happened to be in just about the opposite direction.”

“They wanted to separate you. “ Cas turns to pace. “This is almost certainly a trap.”

“Yeah, probably but it’s our first solid hit on either of them in a long time. Lilith supposedly took a dirt nap not long after we took off but none of the lackeys know how.”

Castiel pauses only a second before continuing to the window to check the yard below. “What does your father intend to do if he is able to capture Azazel? Exorcism?”

“Nope. He has a gun that’ll make him wish we were sending his ass back to hell.”

“A gun cannot kill a demon, Dean,” Cas says with a pinched brow.

Dean holds up his clean knife. “No? You ever heard of a knife killing demons?”

He expects Cas to ask him about it or at least show some interest but instead he just walks towards the window. After a minute of silence between them, Dean sighs, “Look I know this is probably weird for you.. but I’m not a kid anymore. Haven’t been for a long time.” 

Dean lets the weariness and cold anger that wraps around him during a hunt in as Cas watches his face.

“I suppose you’re not.”

For a moment, he holds Dean’s gaze and it feels like it used to. Charged. Tense. They’re in his bedroom like before without the layers of shit from too many years between them. Then Cas blinks and loses any of what Dean swore was just there. 

“I need to speak with my brothers. If a demon of Alastair’s ranking has returned to the area, they need to know.”

“Great. Let’s go.”

“You.. wish to accompany me?” the angel asks with incredulity.

“I’m not the sitting-at-home-wringing-his-hands sorta guy. I want him. I’m goin’.”

“Dean, I don’t believe that would be wise.”

“Cas..” he looks him right in the eye and steps a little closer. “Let me tell you right now. You are not fucking leaving me to go do it yourself.”

He seems torn until Dean adds lower, “I.. I need this.”

Finally he says, “Very well. But Dean, you realize nothing can come of us being.. it can’t be as it was between us. I’m a soldier now in devotion to my purpose. There’s no place for distractions.”

Dean makes himself smirk again to cover the hurt. It wasn’t like he was expecting a kiss in the sunset but Jesus. 

“You jerked me off when I was 16, Cas. I think I can keep myself from jumping you.”

It’s a mean way to sum up what they’d had but he hates feeling so fucking vulnerable and Cas hasn’t shown one ounce of softness towards him so he wanted to hurt back a little.

Cas squints and Dean gets a shot of perverse satisfaction at the way he loses that damn stoic expression just for a second. Then he just nods, jaw tightening and looks away. Dean almost says something to lessen it but doesn’t.

“I’ll take you now, if you want.”

+++ +++ +++ +++ +++ +++

Castiel shifts uncomfortably in the confined space of the automobile. He’d seen Dean with it plenty the last few years so it was of little surprise he refused to leave it behind at his childhood home. Still, it felt too closed in. He felt his wings pressing through the seats and it was distracting, annoying. And Dean was so very close. He could smell the soap he’d cleaned with and the mix of whiskey and leather that clung to him now. In his weaker moments, Castiel had let himself imagine what it would be like if they met again. They’d come together all at once. Desperate and excited to learn each others bodies once more. Instead, they were driving to his motelroom in awkward silence. It was a special kind of torture to see Dean now that he had the knowledge of what he wanted from him and what he could do with him. He wouldn’t have to ask now in what way he was supposed to touch or where or if it felt good. 

He doesn’t accompany Balthazar on his journeys anymore. The pleasure faded too quickly and he was left feeling empty. Instead, he followed Uriel’s example and became the most accomplished warrior he could be.. solely focused on attack formations, techniques, and extinguishing the demonic presence from the earth. Even Michael had been impressed and told Castiel he was proud of his commitment and was glad to see he wasn’t sharing a few of their brother’s apathy.

Even though it was never the right demon, Castiel took a dark gratification out of each kill. He wondered if Michael would still be proud if he knew what drove him. Dean’s quest.. obsession had become his and he imagined they were linked in this small way. He killed in his name, even if he didn’t know it. 

Dean opens a phone and dials numbers with one hand on the steering wheel. 

“Hey. No I’m just doing recon. You- Not yet. Yeah if I know something, I’ll call. Yep.”

He hangs up and tightens his jaw. From one second to the next, he looks harder. Castiel traces the outline of his profile with his eyes until Dean says, still looking ahead, “You got somethin’ to say?”

“Why did you keep my feather?”

He didn’t mean to ask it. Staring at Dean after so long, it’d just been at the forefront before he’d realized it. It was something that always confused him. As Dean hardened into the adult before him, Castiel always expected to one day not be able to feel the pull of that small drop of grace. Or find it discarded in one of his many temporary residences. But it always lead him to his hunter. In the silence that follows his words, he feels that flush of nerves that he hasn’t felt since the last time he’d been a fledgling in Dean’s bedroom. Not even when he learned more intimate acts that two people could share did he feel the things Dean could invoke with no effort at all. 

“I didn’t. I don’t even know where the thing is. Probably back in my old room.” He says it evenly without looking at him.

Castiel tilts his head. Dean just lied to him. He’d even seen him with it once, holding it before he slept. But how would he ask about it further without revealing his habit of watching him? While he’s still trying to decide a way to ask, Dean drives up to a U-shaped building and a sign that reads The Calvary Inn.. or would if an ‘A’ and ‘Y’ weren’t burnt out.

Dean gets out of the car without a backwards glance. He walks up to a red door, unlocks it and leaves it open behind him. After a moment of indecision, Castiel gets out and follows through the door.

It’s small, but cleaner than some he’d seen Dean stay in. He opens his bag and pulls out clothes.

“Hey just lemme grab a shower real quick. If I’m getting an audience with a choir of angels, I’d rather not be soaked in demon blood.”

“None of my brothers I’m taking you to sing with the host.”

Dean takes a second to smile at him and it’s not bitter like the ones before. It makes him look younger. Softer.

“Damn, I missed you, Cas. Even if you’ve kinda been a dick with wings.”

Castiel frowns at that but Dean just takes the clothes under his arm and walks into the bathroom. When the door closes behind him, it bounces against the jam and stays a few inches ajar.

Not knowing what else to do in Dean’s absence he stands in place, waiting. In the silence, he hears boots thud on linoleum, a zipper, the clank of a belt buckle. He looks up to see a line of flesh visible through the crack. Suddenly his body is flush, he was not prepared for the onslaught of images his mind was sending. 

Agitated, Castiel sits on the bed, hearing the water turn on. He believed himself able to control these urges better than this. He hadn’t even thought in this direction for years but now with the idea of Dean cleaning his body of blood, rubbing his bare chest with soap and all the other parts he’d never seen. 

This was foolish. Within an hour of being in his presence again, Castiel had been reduced to this, his body responding to nothing more than the thought of Dean naked. He would go. He would wait outside and remove himself from this torment.

Unbidden, he suddenly wonders if a particular area had changed very much. If Dean would feel the same in his hand. If he made the same breathy noises. Or the one that embarrassed him. He would give almost anything to make him produce that noise again. Ducking his head, Castiel resolutely stares at the floor, watching his toes flex in the shaggy carpet like soft grass. He had more discipline than this. He needed focus.. to help Dean then sever the connection again before it become too much of a pain to bare. The pain in the first few months after Dean had left had been more than he thinks he could handle again.

The shower cuts off with a squeak of the knobs and the sound of a curtain pulling back seems too loud. 

Ruffling noises. 

He will not- Castiel flicks his eyes up to see through the cracked door. Dean rubbing a towel over his head, torso.. twisting he sees a wedge of his taut flank and he feels a twitch from within his leather pants.  
Castiel gets up to pace near the window. 

“Hey.” He turns back to see Dean is toweling his hair in unzipped jeans, shirt hanging over his shoulder. It’s the first time he’s seen so much of him on display and he’s.. beautiful. Castiel knows immediately he’d been staring too long because when he pulls his eyes up to his face, Dean raises an eyebrow and smirks knowingly. “Sorry, I tried to be quick.” 

Did he know the effect he was having? Was Dean purposefully.. 

He throws the shirt over his head and runs his hands over his stomach smoothing it down.  
… Of course he did. He was punishing him for his earlier rebuff. So he would allow Dean this. But only this, because it would hurt far worse if he allowed himself for a second to entertain thoughts of anything more between them.

Castel swallows and tries to let go of the tension. “I don’t think you tried very hard,” he says dryly. Dean shrugs and grins harder, not looking the least bit remorseful. 

Packing his leather jacket with several small bottles and a weapon or four, Dean announces he’s ready to meet some angels.

+++ +++ +++ +++ +++ +++

There’s an awkward moment outside where they just stare at each other. It’d been fun trying to tease him into.. well something other than that damn blank robot face of his. Dean knew he all confused and hot after seeing his angel again and would be damned if he would make it easy on him. He was betting Cas still felt something under all that “I can’t be distracted” bullshit. If nothing else than to be a little hot under the collar while he was all naked only a doorway away. The cracked door he’d left just wide enough to get a look had kinda backfired since it made him hard as fuck. And now they were standing a foot apart and Cas was going to have to hold him close to take him up. Awesome. 

He tried to push for driving but Cas had flat refused, saying his brothers would be angered enough by him bringing a human to them. 

“Uh.. okay so..” he steps forward as Cas moves back a step. Dean gives him a look and he takes a deep breath and says, “Of course. Turn around.” 

For some reason, those words said in his gravelly voice made Dean’s heart speed up for a second. Jesus, how had they ever done this when they were young?

Without another word, Dean faces away to the woods that line the back of the motel. Cas doesn’t move right away and the tension from waiting there is doing a number on him. He almost jerks away when an arm comes up underneath his jacket and he’s pulled back flush against him. He feels the heat of him all at once. Familiar. His arm warm through Dean’s tshirt and his body a hot wall at his back. Dean had almost forgotten this. They don’t move or lift up or anything. Just stand there for a moment with Cas’ arm around him. Almost like they’re hugging. 

For a brief moment, it feels like Cas rests his forehead against the back of his head.

Dean closes his eyes and sucks in a breath before making himself ask, “Cas?”

In the time it takes him to open his eyes again, the arm tightens and he kicks off the ground.

Within only seconds of being in the air, Dean gets over any worries of their closeness. He would crawl inside Cas if it would make him feel less paranoid about being dropped. For some reason when he was younger, this wasn’t as mind-numbly terrifying. What a fucking stupid teenager he had been. Green blurs below him too quick to focus on and he shuts his eyes tight, trying to suck air into his lungs. It feels like they’re closing. He can’t breathe. Why did he agree this.. he wasn’t some goddamn bird. 

“Breathe, Dean. You’re alright,” Cas says right above his ear, tightening his hold. 

Slowly, he sucks a breath in deep. Then out. Then in again. 

“Better?”

He nods with his eyes closed.

Dean concentrates on the tiny jerks of Cas’ wings pushing them through the night and not anything else. Within minutes they’re descending, which brings its own awful stomach tilting nausea. 

As soon as his feet touch ground, he stumbles ahead a few feet and his arm is grabbed to keep him from falling forward. Cas lets him go and he bends over to hold his knees, panting. 

“Goddammit.”

Still hunched over, he looks up to see Cas twisting slightly in place and rolling his shoulders.

“You ok?”

“Yes. You are heavier than I remember.”

Dean straightens, chuckling. “I’m not 15 anymore.”

“I’ve noticed,” Cas says with a blank face, but he takes a second to look him over once again before quickly turning. “Let’s go.”

“Go where? Cas, there’s nothin’ here. It’s an empty field.”

Squinting at him, the angel looks over his shoulder then back to him. Dean whirls then turns back with hands up in an unimpressed shrug. Cas walks a step towards him with a hand up and he can’t help flinching away. He lowers his hand looking annoyed.

“I don’t know if it’ll help but I would like to try something. With your permission.” He adds the last part, holding up his hand again.

Dean nods wearily as he steps close again until he’s right in front of him and placing a palm over his eyes. Dean immediately tenses. It’s more trust than he’s shown anyone in a long time and it makes him antsy waiting for whatever Cas was doing.

“Take a breath.”

Dean does.

“Again.”

“Did you bring me here for some weird yoga, Cas because I really don’t-“

“Be quiet, Dean.”

Sighing, he shuts up and breathes deep again.

“Listen to every word I say and focus on forming a picture in your mind.”

He waits as Dean breathes deep again.

“Now when you turn around, you will see a large tree that does not belong in a field such as this. Its trunk is the width of three men standing side by side and the branches reach high and numerous above.”

After a moment where he seems to hesitate, Cas continues, “It actually is very similar to the tree we..” he pauses and Dean swallows hard knowing instantly what he was talking about. “..We were intimate under. Do you remember?”

“Yeah,” he breathes. It’s impossible not to get a flash of Cas rutting hard against him as he sucked his neck. “Got it.”

Cas steers him to face the other way with eyes still covered. He slowly pulls away his hand and Dean blinks several times. And then in one blink to the next, it’s just there. As if it always had been. 

“Huh. Cool. Like a secret lair.”

When he checks back to Cas, he’s staring at it too with his face scrunched in concern. 

“This gonna get you in trouble?”

“Are you concerned for me?” He glances at him but it’s not a friendly look. Dean did push for this and he hadn’t really asked about what it would mean for him. Without another word, he starts walking forward and Dean follows to stride next to him.

After a minute Dean asks, “So how many angels could fit in a tree? Huh, that sounds like a bad joke.”

“The tree is only the visual exterior. It is a bend in reality where we are able to create a place for ourselves. This is where our garrison gathers while on earth. To strategize or to rest.” 

“In a tree.”

Cas makes a noise that could have been a laugh but might have just been an annoyed huff.

As they step over thick roots to approach an expansive trunk, Cas doesn’t slow. He reaches back to take Dean’s hand and continues forward through the bark. There’s a moment of pressure and his ears pop, then Cas lets go and he’s standing in what looks like a large one-room cabin except the ceiling is too far up to see. Light is streaming in from somewhere but there’s no light fixtures or windows.

“Whoa..” he whistles, following the wall up with his eyes. Hammocks begin after the first twenty feet or so feet. A wide shelf accompanies each one. If he squints, Dean can see knick knacks, books, small bottles. One towards the bottom has what looks like a small Superman figurine and maybe.. a cassette tape?

“Castiel,” a dark blond male with a stern face stands up, bringing Dean’s attention back down to the room in front of him. A wide round table is the focus of the room but there are cushy chairs spread out near it and throughout the space.

Another almost bleached blond in a v-neck has his legs crossed and propped on the table, smiling with his mouth open as he darts his eyes between them and the last angel. That one’s farther away and Dean doesn’t get a good look because the first guy is heading towards them without even glancing his way. His eyes are hard and steady to his left on Cas. He looks young but the way he carries himself makes Dean see him for the threat he is. He touches the blade’s hilt in his jacket, not knowing if it would hurt an angel or not but needing some security. 

“Michael,” Cas says, but then he just walks past them, clipping Dean on the shoulder as he does, and goes out the way they came.

“Nice to meetcha!” Dean yells over his shoulder.

“What are you doing?” he hears from the one farthest back. He’s short for an angel with honey brown hair that seems familiar.

“Bringing back strays? Let me guess, he followed you home. Now Cassie, you know the rules about pets.” V-neck chuckles to himself.

“Hey. Billy Idol. I’m no one’s pet.” Dean says it with no thought that this was a supposed badass warrior of heaven. In that get up, how was he supposed to take him seriously? Thankfully he doesn’t smite him but just purses his lips in amusement.

“I…” Cas starts. “This is Dean.”

V-neck laughs again for seemingly no reason.

“These are my brothers, Gabriel and Balthazar.”

“Hello, _Dean_ ,” Gabriel says stepping forward but not taking his eyes from Cas.

“Hey…” it started off as a greeting but after getting a good look at him, alarm bells start going off.

“Articulate and easy on the eyes. I can see why my dear brother was so enthralled.” Balthazar snidely says but Dean isn’t paying attention to him.

“Sonofabitch! You’re that fucking trickster!” Dean reaches for his weapon and moves to charge but with the sound of a snap, he’s in a chair in front of Balthazar who waves sardonically.

“Take a seat why don’t you.”

He looks to his left to see Cas having a clipped conversation with the thing he killed over a year ago.

“So Dean, how’s the extermination business going? Ridding the world of all that goes bump in the night?”

Dean turns from watching Cas’ expressions to the smiling blond in front of him.

“What?”

“Uhh,” Balthazar rolls his eyes. “You really are living up to every one of my expectations, aren’t you?”

Dean glares at him. “Shut up. And why would an angel have a British accent?

“I have asked him that myself several times,” Castiel says suddenly beside him. He puts a hand on Dean’s shoulder and it helps him feel a little less on edge, despite the resurrected trickster smirking at him. “Some of us have spent more time amongst humans than others.”

Balthazar winks. “So welcome to our home away from home. I tried to get them to model it after this cute little bordello in Spain but alas I was overruled.”

He’s distracted by the one called Gabriel coming around to perch on the arm of chair in front of him next to Balthazar. Cas is leaning against the back of Dean’s chair with his arms folded and it feels like they’re on separate lines of battle or something.

“Yeah it’s great. So what’s going on with him?” Dean lifts his chin in Gabriel’s direction. “Why are you calling a trickster your brother?”

“He’s not a trickster,” Cas says.

“I just play one on tv.” Gabriel adds, focused on opening a jollyrancher before tossing the wrapper behind him.

Look Cas. I don’t trust-“

“Cas?” Balthazar practically giggles.

“He is my brother. An angel. And he tells me he gave you the knife you now carry so I assume you will not harbor any ill will.”

One look up at Cas’ hard face and Dean sighs. “Fine. Whatever. You tell ‘em?”

“Yes.” Turning to Balthazar, he says, “Alastair has returned.”

Balthazar nods not looking particularly interested, before saying, “So, _Cas_.. you brought-“

“Stop it.”

“Your boyfriend gets to.”

“What?” Dean asks, confused at the tension.

“Nothing,” Cas says, staring hard at his brother.

Dean frowns up at him, turning back in time to see Gabriel and Balthazar exchange a look. Balthazar turns smiling back at him and mockingly asks, “Can you even buy cigarettes, sweet cheeks? What are you 19, running around with daddy’s guns and-“

“Dean is 23,” Castiel interrupts, making everyone stop and look at him, especially Dean. Cas only flicks his eyes down at him for a second before diverting his gaze quickly away.

“Thank you for the correction, Cassie.” Balthazar seems happy to just sit there wasting time and it’s making him impatient. He didn’t understand what half the tension was about and why Cas seemed to be standing just in front of him or if he should be on alert with the two dicks in front of him. 

“So we gonna hang out in your angel clubhouse all day or what?” Dean leans forward to put elbows on his knees. He had an uncomfortable thought that whatever was going on was about him.

“Clubhouse,” Gabriel smirks. “That’s funny. So what’s up with you showing up without a gift? Rude. Maybe we should kick you out. No boys allowed.” 

“What the hell do you think you are there, buddy?”

“Oh I am no boy, Dean-o..” It's suddenly threatening the way Gabriel stares at him hard with an alienness but grins toothily at the same time. His shoulders square with the familiar sound of feathers ruffling. 

“Gabriel..” Cas sits up straight with hands at his sides.

“Chillax, Bro. We’re just getting to know your _friend_." He puts heavy emphasis on the last word. “It’s not every day you bring home a young man now is it?” he says sweetly.

Dean holds his gaze steadily, not understanding the wave of barely contained violence this thing had towards him suddenly. Even when he was about to kill him as the trickster, he seemed mocking at most. 

Castiel takes a step closer to him and Dean sighs, so done with this shit. “Look can we do.. whatever this is later? You guys are fucking angels! Don’t you wanna go after demons?”

“You hear that, Gabe? We’re fucking angels,” Balthazar informs him.

“Sound the trumpets.” Gabriel shakes himself and resumes sucking loudly on the candy in his mouth.

“Oh god no. Inias has absolutely no ear. I wish they’d take that thing away from him. Anyway, what trouble are we getting into now that your human is house-calling?”

“Gabriel suggested Crowley,” Cas relaxes his stance just the slightest and it brings his leg to rest against Dean’s. 

“Well no accounting for taste.”

“Who’s Crowley?” Dean asks.

Balthazar raises an eyebrow. “Have you ever heard the term ‘making a deal with the devil’?”

“Yeah..”

“Well he’s the one in a pretentious suit and crocodile-skin shoes brokering the deal. Him or one of his little butt buddy minions.”

“He’s a demon?” Dean almost growls and jumps to his feet. “What the hell-“

“Cool your jets there, Barbie,” Gabriel cuts him off.

“Call me that again and I’ll gank your angel ass-“

“Ooh I like it when he goes all Neanderthal. I can’t imagine what this does for you, Cassie.”

Castiel takes two steps and turns to stand between them. “Balthazar. Gabriel. Stop instigating a fight.” He turns and gives him a steady look. “They are trying to help you.”

Dean shifts in place, biting his tongue so he doesn’t go off on how very unhelpful they’ve been. 

“And Dean isn’t going with us to speak with Crowley,” Cas adds not looking at him. 

“Oh, he isn’t, huh?” Gabriel asks with a lilt.

“No, he isn’t. We can’t bring him there. You know the danger would be too great for a human.”

“Cas! I’m a goddamn hunter. I’m going.”

“Yeah. You really are.” Gabriel grins with mischief.

“Gabriel!“

The last thing he sees is Cas’ outraged face and Balthazar getting to his feet and cracking his neck before the air is suddenly knocked out of him from an angel barreling into him and with a whoosh and rush of wind.. they’re suddenly in the sky.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I imagined the tree similar to the green room from season 4. In that Zachariah made a hotel suite for Dean.. here the angels made themselves a treehouse. :) 
> 
> And Dean and Cas are reunited! Are you excited? I'm excited. Thank you for my feedback, lovelys. It really helps.


	16. Distractions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You don't get to say you don't know.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long, loveys. It's been an incredibly stressful week. Check out new fan art of Cas at the end of the chapter by the fabulous [Sister-Euryale](http://sister-euryale.tumblr.com). Also go back to Chapter 6 to see her rendition of Cas returning Dean from his birthday flight. Eskimo Kisses, sweetums!

They're moving so fast, Dean's not able to catch a breath. Gabriel has him in kind of a bear hug and it feels like they're a bullet, shooting through the sky. What he assumes is the sky. He can't open his eyes to see. All he can do is hold on, grit his teeth and hope it ends soon. There's no gliding or swooping or anything that resembles what he knows of flying like with Cas. Just speed. Violent and terrifying.

After what seems like only a minute or two, it's over. Gabriel abruptly just stops and the inertia keeps him going so he loses his grip for a second. To Dean's horror, he drops several feet.

"Woops."

The angel catches him by the wrist and lowers him the last fifteen feet or so. "No harm, no foul, right Dean-o?"

Dean focuses on sucking in deep lungfuls of air and when his feet hit the ground, he falls to his knees, then forward so his palms smack asphalt. They're on an empty street. Anything more he can't tell or care about at the moment.

Gabriel shakes his head in false sympathy. "You don't get flight sickness do you? Probably shoulda asked that first."

"What-" Dean gasps. "What the hell was that?"

"Warp speed. Cool, huh?"

"You Sonofabitch! I'm going to-" he gets to his knees only to fall back again, lightheaded.

"Why don't you take a minute there, big guy. No rush. I'll be here to "gank" whenever you're ready." He pulls out a tootsie pop and tosses the wrapper behind him.

Dean nods and clutches his heart until it steadies. He's gonna shove that damn tootsie pop up his ass as soon as he could stand.

After a moment of sucking lewdly on his candy, Gabriel pulls it out to say, "Just so you know.. you and me got a convo comin'."

"What?"

"Not now. Castiel will be along any minute and you could always die in the next hour and then the point would be moot."

Dean pushes to a knee, then finds he's able to stand. "Oh I'd love to talk right now."

Gabriel smiles patronizingly with an arched eyebrow just as there's a rush of air behind him. Castiel does something too quick to follow and Gabriel is suddenly on his ass. Not breaking stride, he walks to Dean and after looking him over once, asks, "Are you alright, Dean?"

Smirking down at Gabriel, he says, "I think I left my stomach back at your treehouse but yeah. Can you do that shit?"

"No." He glares at his brother whose back on his feet grinning around the candy bulging in his cheek. "Gabriel has an extra set of wings that gives him the ability to reach speeds most of us cannot."

"It's better to ask for forgiveness than permission, Baby Bro. Besides, I think you were emasculating your hunter."

Balthazar drops out of nowhere next to Gabriel, huffing and braces a hand on his shoulder.

"Cassie must have broken the sound barrier getting here," he pants inbetween chuckling.

Said angel angrily turns to them now, squaring his shoulders and Dean gets a brush of feather that jolts him. Makes him instantly remember burying his hands in their softness while he writhed. Fuck.. focus. Literally, worst timing ever.

"He can't be here," Castiel says as if it's a fact.

Gabriel points at him with the tootsie pop. "But he is here."

"Cas, whatever the hell we're doing here, trust me. I can handle it."

Gabriel raises his eyebrows in an innocent "there you go" expression.

Frowning, Castiel gives his brothers one last hard glance before he turns his back on them, giving Dean his full attention. Speaking lower and with a small note of apprehension, he says, "Dean, I do not doubt your abilities as a hunter, but in the event that we are over-whelmed, I can't protect you."

And fuck if that isn't it right there. Cas still thinks he's the same shell-shocked, bloody kid.

"No one's asking you to."

Dean pushes past him to face the two other angels. Balthazar is leaning against a Dead End road sign with his arms folded and whispering something under his breath to Gabriel.

"Alright, God Squad. Lead on."

They both look back to Castiel who, jaw clenched, walks past all of them down the street.

After a few minutes, of nothing but empty lots and abandoned buildings, a monstrosity of a house appears with a 15ft wrought iron fence surrounding it.. making it look like a luxury compound.

"Allow me," Gabriel vanishes in a swirl of leaves. By the time they reach the gate, he appears on the other side and swings it open.

As Dean steps through it, he sees two men in suits with black charred eyesockets. They approach a wide driveway with lush, manicured shrubs. Hand on the hilt of his knife, they walk purposefully up a few steps towards an arched doorway. Without pausing, Balthazar twists the knob hard and with a crack, it dislodges from the door in his hand.

"How thoughtful. They left it open."

The rest of the slow track through the house is uneventful, but not boring. It's decked out with hardwood floors, heavy expensive-looking furnishings and rich colors throughout. There's even a huge piano in one room they pass through.

"Seriously? A demon is holed up in this freakin' mansion?"

"Well I do enjoy my creature comforts," a cultured voice lazes behind him and Dean whirls with his knife in a reverse grip, edge against his neck.

It was in a male. Short and in an all black suit. He manages to look cocky, despite the blade pressing his skin. "This him? King of the wheelin' and dealin' demons?"

"I prefer King of the Crossroads and easy, pup. It's impolite to slit the throat of your host." He flicks his eyes casually to the angels. "Not to mention killing the help."

Dean doesn't take his eyes off the demon but hears Gabriel behind him say, "Did you a favor, Crowley my man. They weren't very good at their job. Let us walk right in." Balthazar snickers.

"Hilarious, I'm sure." Crowley slowly steps backwards away from Dean and towards a small table holding a silver ornate tray with a large thick-glassed bottle and pours an inch of amber liquid into a glass. "To what do I owe the pleasure of a visit from Dean Winchester and Charlie's Angels?"

"You know me?"

Taking a measured sip, he furrows his forehead and appraises him. "Dean Winchester. Hunter of Monsters, Killer of Demons, Lover of Angels." He slants his gaze to a stone-faced Castiel.

Feeling his face heat, Dean steps forward to bring the knife just under his chin and says, "Yeah and you're a demon. So why shouldn't I just kill you right now?"

"Because your angelic entourage here wouldn't have brought you without a reason."He waits as Dean just stares hard, not lowering the knife. "Oh and the other twenty or so demons waiting to dismember you on my word."

There's a sharp tingy noise to his right and he sees Cas with a silvery blade out of the corner of his eye.

"See, rude threats like that make Cassie a bit smite-happy," Balthazar says.

Crowley fixes his eyes on Cas with a twist of lips. "If it comes to that.. do you really think you could fight allll my pets at once and still save him?"

Castiel takes a step forward. "You won't live to know."

Gabriel cuts the tension with, "Alright, can we quit the dick measuring and get down to business?" He yanks Dean back by the collar and Crowley nonchalantly walks to stand behind his wide polished desk.

"I am nothing if not a business man. So please, illuminate me as to what business I have with angels."

"Our boy Dean here needs a few questions answered." Gabriel throws an arm over his shoulder, which he immediately shoves off.

"And pray tell, what do I get in return?"

"Same as always," Balthazar says cheerily. "We don't incinerate you right out of that awful suit of yours."

"You're one to criticize." Crowley gives him a snide look while gesturing a 'V' in front of himself.

"Stop wasting time," Cas says, sounding on edge. "Dean, ask him-"

"I am sorry to disappoint darlings but I won't be able to answer anything tonight. How's three days from now sound?"

Balthazar makes a disbelieving laugh.

"Say midnight, cemetery at the edge of town? Just for the sake of ambiance."

"Have you forgotten your place on the foodchain, Dickbag?" Gabriel's voice is slightly lower now.

"Colorful as always. And as much as I'd love to sit and chat about all the nasty things you'll do to me, your attention will be elsewhere in about 2 minutes."

"What?" Dean asks in confusion.

"I'm a survivor first, an informer second, my dear. Alastair wants you and that is not a dog I want hounding me. If you're still alive with all your bits intact, meet me in three days and we'll talk."

Cas is already at the window. "More than ten," he says looking back grimly at his brothers. Two more blades are drawn.

"None of you have any idea what's going on, do you?" He laughs to himself. "Well soon enough.."

Dean is starting to catch on that even with all the calm banter, they're in a lot of fucking trouble. "You sonofa-"

The doors burst inward and a flood of men and women with dark eyes pour in.

"Chao, darlings."

+++ +++ +++ +++

It's a blur. Every time Castiel gets up, another body barrels into him. He loses track of Dean for a moment and panics, allowing one an opening to gouge his side. He counters the next lunge and buries his blade so deep, his fist hits its chest. Yanking it out, he turns back to see Dean is proving adept enough with his knife to hold his own. Or at least against the ones Castiel's unable to keep focused on him. Surprisingly, he's been able to fend off several demons, despite their superior strength.

Gabriel and Balthazar each have several bodies surrounding them on the floor. Gabriel leaps up and flies at a group of four approaching and pushes them back. Balthazar stabs ones, just to flip his angelblade and stab another behind him. Sulfur is cloying and hangs heavy in the air.

After several more minutes of grunts and gore and flashes of light, Castiel kills one and finally another does not wait to replace it.

Spinning, he finds Dean, trading punches with one while distracting another by knocking it on its back with a kick. He kills the one running at him with an uppercut stab as it misses connecting its fist and then turns to deal with the one scrambling to its feet from the floor.

Castiel can't help thinking he's graceful in this. His moves aren't wasted, each having a precision and purpose. He gets caught in just watching him move. Ruthless and fluid, he grabs the demon close to ram his blade under its chin.

"Not bad, eh Cassie?"

Balthazar puts an arm over his shoulders and chuckles watching Dean push the body off his weapon with disgust.

"No.." he says distractedly as he watches Dean wipe the blood off on one of the dead human's shirts. Odd that this should make his body heat all of the sudden. They're surrounded by carnage but seeing Dean as confident.. powerful.. in his element.. it almost made him forget his brother was even there next to him until he says, "Your brawny manboy has some skills. I wonder how that translates during more enjoyable pursuits."

Castiel doesn't acknowledge him but feels his face flush slightly at the thought.

"What the hell was that?" Dean says walking over to them, blood covering his arms and shirt.

" _That_ is what you get when you deal with demons," Gabriel kicks an arm in his path.

Castiel makes himself pull his eyes away from Dean to face him. "Do you believe him?"

Gabriel looks up. "What, that he was saving his skin?" Absolutely positively. That he's gonna bare all three days from now in some dank graveyard.."

"It's very melodramatic of him. A cemetery. Why can't these things ever be at a Starbucks?" Balthazar sighs and rolls his shoulders. "And what was that part at the end there? 'What's really going on'.. Uhh the pompous pricktease."

Once again, Castiel gets drawn in by watching Dean's mouth as he speaks. "I don't know but we need answers. If meeting with this douche can get 'em, then I've gotta chance it."

Gabriel looks between him and Dean or more likely at him watching Dean.

"Alright, Dean-o. Demon pow wow take 2 in three days."

Dean breathes out a little easier and begrudgingly says, "Thanks for your help, guys."

Balthazar pulls his shirt away from his chest in distaste at the stains making it sticky.

"I preferred when he was someone to hate abstractly. Well, it's been.. bloody."

Castel barely notices when Balthazar leaves.

"Don't stay out past curfew," Gabriel jokes close to his ear but gives him a hard look. Louder he calls, "Barbie, always a pleasure!" He bows extravagantly and is gone in a blink.

Dean sighs heavily. "So your brothers… not exactly what I pictured as-"

Castiel doesn't think about it, just grabs Dean's face and roughly pulls his mouth against his. He swallows whatever word Dean was about to say and steals his next breath, gripping his face tighter because of how good it feels.

This. Just this. With Dean slowly responding as he realizes what's happening, grabbing his arms just as tight and opening his mouth to meet Castiel's aggressive tongue. It's fierce and over-whelming, like the battle they just survived. Both of them press just as hard like they're still fighting. There's no gentle giving in this like he'd often imagined their kisses would be. They're each taking from the other.

Too quickly, Dean is shoving him away. Castiel releases him and steps back to get some distance so he doesn't reach for him again. There's only the sound of their unsteady breathing, Castiel looking at the ground while Dean stares at him.

"Why.. what was that?"

Taking a breath, he looks up. There are streaks through the thin layer of blood and sweat on Dean's face from his fingers. His green eyes are bright and he's licking his lips in a way that is distracting so soon after kissing him. "I don't know."

Dean's slightly shocked expression turns hard. "You don't know? What the fuck does that mean?"

He does know. But it's more like he doesn't know how to put it into words. It's that Castiel has barely been able to make himself watch Dean fight before.. and it's glorious. It's that he could easily have died if they were too quickly overtaken but he didn't. It's that he wanted to feel his rough cheeks under his palms and compare them to his memories of when they were smooth. It's that just now it really sinks in that Dean is here and they're together. Fighting together. Talking together. And alone together where he couldn't stop the impulse urging him to reach out and take something that he has been aching for. Has been imagining over and over since the moment he left Dean alone in a blood splattered bedroom over 6 years ago. But now Dean is angry with him, possibly at himself because he doesn't have the words to express or name all the feelings that are running through him.

"Goddammit," Dean shakes his head at the ground.

"Dean.."

"No. You don't get to do that and say you don't know. Not after you don't think twice about me in however freakin' long-"

"I never said I didn't think about you. Of course, I - "

"Yeah whatever, Cas. Just don't let yourself get 'distracted' again, kay? Eye on the prize so you can go back to your fucking duty and all that."

Dean makes his way over several bodies to the door and stomps down the hallway.

In a moment of weakness, he almost follows. He almost tells him how often he stood outside the window of a hundred different motelrooms and watched over him. Hurt with him while he cried for his broken family and turned away when he needed to find solace in another. How he would have done anything to be the one to give him comfort.

Instead he stops and stands there and waits to remember why he doesn't go after him.. never goes to him. Because there is no place for him in Dean's life. It's something that Dean forgets in moments of loneliness. If he had gone to him, it would only have made it worse for them both. It was hard enough to linger on the outskirts of his life, haunting him. And now again when Dean leaves it will be unbearable still but made even worse if he were to show such weakness as he just did.

Castiel touches his lips for the briefest of moments, then closes his eyes and fists his hands at his sides. He stays there for several more minutes until he has the control to go find Dean and apologize.

He carries Dean back to his motel, slower than Gabriel's speed-crazed dash. To be honest, the muscles in his back and wing joints still ache from pushing them to follow his brother earlier. Carrying another person isn't doing them any favors but holding Dean like this, like he's allowed to.. it's worth it.

Dean had let him apologize and agreed to be taken back to the motel. He hasn't spoken to him since they left the ground and it bothers him. He knows Dean is frightened of heights now but he doesn't give any indication that he is tense or anxious as before. Castiel tries to make each movement smooth and in control as possible.

Too soon they're in the wooded area behind the collection of rooms and he has to let go and step away. When Dean turns to look at him, it's difficult to meet his eyes. Already with just that kiss between them, it's hard to walk away. Only a few more traded words and they can part.

"So despite everything, thanks for today," Dean says.

"We were ambushed by demons and my brothers took turns trying to provoke you into confrontation," Castiel states, not understanding why Dean would feel the need to thank him.

Dean smiles down as if at a memory. "Let me ask you something. You ever tell them about..ya know.. us?"

"Yes."

Dean purses his lips and nods. "Yeah then that kinda explains it. They were being obnoxious big brothers. Not that I appreciated being shot through the air like a torpedo but I'll give 'em this one."

As Castiel watches Dean's smile fall, he thinks he knows where his thoughts went. "Have you been able to see Sam often?"

Sighing, he shoves his hands in his pockets. "Not as much as I'd like. He lives with a family friend. More.. ya know, stable for him and all."

"I'm sorry, Dean."

"Me too." Dean rubs a thumb over a round piece of wood with '12' carved into it and a key hooked from the end. "You know, I always thought.. when it was all said and done, we'd have time."

Castiel pinched his brow as he glances up. "Me and Sammy," he clarifies quickly. "When they were dead.. " He smiles down at the key in his hand, "My dad would be a little less batshit crazy, I'd actually get to know my brother, I'd stop needing to drink to sleep.. everything would magically get fixed."

He raises his gaze again, "I'd make up for lost time."

For a brief moment, it felt like he was talking about something more than his brother. They stand there, neither talking just watching the others face until tension starts to leak back in.

"I would like that for you," Castiel says, slowly.

Dean laughs but without humor. "Yeah but there ain't no magic fix, Cas. My dad won't be able to give up this fight, even if the ones we want are dead. Sammy's gonna be grown with an apple pie life and I'm hardly gonna recognize him. And that's even if I make it on the other side of a showdown with-

"I won't let you die," he says more fiercely than he meant to.

Dean gives him a level look. "I'm gonna die, Cas. Here and now or twenty years down the road, but if I can take out at least one of them first.. it'll mean something. I could be happy with that."

Castiel finds himself suddenly enraged that Dean could so easily accept that his life would be given to the very demons that first destroyed it. He sounds resigned. Waiting for the inevitable.

Stepping close until Dean's only an inch or two away, he growls out, "I said I won't let you die. You will trust me in this."

For some reason, Dean is grinning at him and that makes him begin to stare at his lips all over again. As soon as he realizes how close they've become, he says, "I'll come for you in three days," and turns to leave.

He only gets a step when he hears, "Hey, Cas."

Castiel pauses but doesn't turn back.

"I'm gonna check out a lead tomorrow. See if I can get a demon or two to cough up some info."

He does turn back now. With Crowley's betrayal, it was evident the demons were already looking for Dean and instructed to capture him.

"By yourself?" he frowns in disapproval.

Dean smiles. That smile. The one he's seen him give away carelessly to countless females and he's angry that it makes his heart beat just a little faster.

"Well not if you come with me."

Castiel's eyebrows smooth and after fighting with his better judgment and losing he says, "When?"

+++ +++ +++ +++

By the time his feet touch grass, he's has to admit that he's already excited to see Dean again tomorrow. Despite the many times he attempted to dismiss it as foolish, he felt his lips pulling upwards of their own volition as he steps over the threshold.

Thankfully Uriel had not returned yet. When he did, Michael would tell him of the human he’d brought there and he didn’t want to hear about his very loud views on “hairless apes” again. Michael stands now, waiting for him to come to him but Castiel’s doesn’t want the scolding just yet.. not with the memory of Dean's lips still weighing on his thoughts. Instead he flies upwards to his resting place and tucks his wings around him, lying back with an arm propped behind his head and swaying slightly.

For so long, he'd turned this part of himself off. He let province and single-minded purpose fill him until there was no room for anything softer or weak like longing and want. It'd numbed it but now that he was giving into those type of thoughts again, it was not so easily talked away with stern words. He knew it would make being around Dean all the harder. Even now, he imagined scenarios where he would only kiss him. Nothing more. Or Dean would kiss him. Just one more time. They flitted through his mind like beautiful dreams. Or what he thought dreams would be. Kissing him had been like.. waking up after believing he was dead. Like tasting life on his lips. How funny that only 13 seconds could have tilted his world so much.

He reaches out to his ledge and takes the superman toy to run his fingers over like he used to. Smiling, he rolls it over in his palm and remembers a time when he'd sat with Dean, reading a comic about this character.

"Dammit." Castiel closes his eyes at the sound of Balthazar's voice far below him.

"Ha! Told you." Gabriel sing songs.

"Cassie, what are you doing here? You're supposed to be working out your unresolved sexual tension with a certain scruffy hunter.

Placing the figure carefully back in its place, he rolls to his side and drops to his feet thirty feet down.

"You good?" Gabriel raises his eyebrows and he simply nods.

"Castiel." Michael appears in front of him, diverting his attention. His face is set and Balthazar makes a motion as if he was shivering behind his back. "He does not come here again."

Gabriel rolls his eyes and steps up to perch on a nearby chair. Bowing his head, Castiel looks away.

Once Michael puts a hand on his shoulder, he has to meet his eyes. It's what he expects.

Lifting his chin in attempt to show he has nothing to feel ashamed for, Castiel says, "He needs my help."

"You are above their many needs. Leave him be, Brother. You've outgrown childish infatuations."

A small spark of defiance burns in him at Michael's easy dismissal. Michael, who has always been a faultless example of a true warrior of Heaven. Forsaking the lure of the human world and showing nothing but disdain for Gabriel and Balthazar's many short comings. But just now, Castiel feels as though his exemplary older brother knows nothing of what is in him. Because he has faults and wants and short comings and cannot leave Dean be.

"Of course. You are right."

Even as he says the words, exhilaration runs through him, making his feathers shift restlessly.. because he knows with certainty now he will go to Dean tomorrow.


	17. Crossroads

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What does he mean you watched over me?

Dean lies on his back on a lumpy mattress, staring at an ugly popcorn ceiling. The same ceiling he's stared at a thousand times in rooms just like this one. He's washed away the blood and dirt but not the day. It's been hours of tracing a crack above him with his eyes because he can't sleep and he's outta booze. The aching muscles in his arms and back protest any idea of getting up but he can't turn off his head.

When he'd checked into this craphole yesterday morning, he hadn't known what to expect. Hopefully to see Cas again, something he'd been equally excited about and dreading. Try to enlist some angelic assistance. Probably get the shit kicked out of him by going back to his childhood home. Maybe get another lead on Alastair's whereabouts or why he was back here of all places. However he'd imagined it going... it wasn't lying here trying to figure out what made an angel tick.

What the hell went on in that head of his? Why did Cas ignore him for years, have to be manipulated into showing up now, give Dean the 'I'm married to my work' speech.. just to turn around and freaking kiss him? Like that. Dean had thought he knew what the deal was with them. How it was and was gonna be.. then Cas had to go knock that idea on its ass. And Christ, for a minute there, he'd given in because damn had it felt good.

It hadn't been gentle or cautious. Cas was demanding. Forceful. Crashing against him like the brunt of a wave and Dean wanted it all. Even as Cas' fingers dug into the sides of his face.. he could have done it harder and in that moment, Dean would have wanted more. It felt familiar but kicked up ten notches from the kisses in his memory that he held close on lonely nights. Cas felt like something he'd been missing for so long but made himself forget how much until he tasted it again. The buzz like intense energy shivering through him, the warmth from Cas' skin, the faint smell of wild outdoors and underlining sweetness. Even the sound of his feathers shifting as he got excited.. Dean had forgotten all this and remembered it in an instance.

He wishes he could stop replaying it on loop but even with the demon deathmatch, Crowley, The Trickster being alive and an angel on top of that… Cas' kiss was only thing he could think about.

Sighing, he rubs the heels of his hands over his eyes. He needs to call his dad and report in, but he can wait a little longer.

John hadn't taken long to decide to go after Azazel when Dean said he'd take Alastair. The chance to go after the yellow-eyed bastard that had killed his wife had been too much of a draw. Even though any other time, he wouldn't have ever let Dean go off on his own after one of Them.

Over the years of choking and burning and cutting into black-eyed bodies, they'd learned that Alastair had been a high-ranking demon. Hell's Grand Torturer. Dean had the scars on his back to attest that he knew his way around a knife. He still had the occasional nightmare about a clammy hand on his shoulder, rubbing soothingly as a sharp bite opened his skin.

Azazel they knew less about. He seemed to be higher up the foodchain than even Alastair but none of the lackeys knew his agenda. John had interrupted some big ritual he'd been dishing up but never found out what it was for. While yellow eyes had been doing the bad guy monologue in his mom's voice, Dean remembered him saying they'd been trying to call someone. Or summon someone? Free someone? He'd been mostly whoosy by that time from blood loss and it changes from time to time in his memory. Not that he tries very hard to remember it often.

For the last few years, no demon had anything good to give up before they were destroyed. That is until two weeks ago. It was suspicious as hell, the way it babbled almost eagerly, trying to make a deal for its freedom. Both, it said, were top-side. Preparing for something big. After swallowing a mouthful of salt with a chaser of holy water, the demon even had vague locations.

Bobby was pissed but couldn't put up too much of a fight. He'd been laid up in a wheel chair about two years ago when he got a stuck with a knife by a shapeshifter. Now he throws them hunts or info when they need it. No matter how much yellin' he'd done for them to at least choose one to go after, it'd fallen on deaf ears.

And so John went to chase his demon and Dean went after his. It was a mistake; he knew that in the back of his mind. Maybe his dad did too, but with bait so perfectly tailored to them… well they couldn't just let one of them slip away.

Dean wondered if he'd see his dad again when this was over. If he'd see anyone again for that matter or just end up in a pine box. Even though it was over 400 miles out of the way, he went and spent one last day with Sam before heading to Kansas. He was starting to shoot up, already gaining half a foot since the last time Dean had seen him. He'd let he go on and on about anything. Everything. School, videogames, Jo's new boyfriend, the dog Ellen was talking about getting.. Dean had soaked up as much of it as he had time for until too quickly he was holding him tight and ruffling his hair.. and driving away. Driving away to Kansas. Someplace they never take jobs in. Not his dad or him talk about it.. but they don't need to.

He remembers how it felt just after Cas showed up tonight. Standing above him like a hundred different scenarios Dean daydreamed while he was sewing up a gash or his dad was popping in his dislocated shoulder.

Truthfully, he'd been glad it was going to go down here. He could have made any number of excuses to himself and his dad for going after Alastair alone.. but getting to see Cas again, maybe for the last time, had been a big part of it. Just watching him tonight, his heart had raced. He was excited in a way he hadn't been over anything for so long…

And just like that, he's right back to thinking about Cas. Damnit! He's just one big weakspot for Dean and it's pathetic to want him so bad, be this torn up over one goddamn kiss.

He needs a distraction. And shit, even that word makes him fucking think of Cas now.

Lacing his boots, Dean grabs his leather jacket with his keys and heads out the door.

Dean listens to the engine tick in a dirt parking lot a few miles away from the motel. He can hear the familiar sounds of a jukebox and happy chatter every time someone opens the door to leave. Inside was all that he needed. All he had to do it go get it.

Sighing, Dean swings the keys around his index finger. Then again.

Why the hell had he asked him to come along tomorrow? Cas was like a goddamn itch he couldn't help scratching or a split lip he kept tonguing no matter how much it hurt. How many nights did he lay awake, alone after his dad left.. just imagining Cas kissing him. Or even holding him. Or pretend he was sitting at the end of his bed waiting for him to wake up so they could talk. Like they used to. Dean could tell him about the shapeshifter that masqueraded as a rich woman's pet Chihuahua or the vampire that only fed on cattle, or the amazing shot he made that morning. Cas would listen to everything, just sitting there with legs crossed and letting him go on and on like when he was 15.

As he got older, Dean knew it for the weakness it was. He didn't need someone else to hold him or keep him safe or even listen to him ramble on. He was the only one he could count on. He was all he had.

He slams the heel of his palm on the steering wheel. Fuck Cas for doing this to him. For making him want him all over again. Want things he can't have.. that don't fit into his life anymore. Can't fit.

He should go inside right now. Find some sweet thing to bury inside and to say they want him.. if just for a while. It'd be easy and something he could understand. Uncomplicated. Not like a fucking angel that kisses him like a pornstar but doesn't know why. Doesn't have an answer and turns away with a fucking 'sorry.'

"Goddammit," he curses under his breath.

Shifting to reverse, Dean throws an arm over the back of the seat and quickly backs up, kicking dirt up in a cloud.

He drives about 20 mins until he finds the turn off to the old road he wants. A few more miles and he comes to a stop at a seemingly random spot. Getting out, he slams the door behind him and unlocks the trunk. Another few hours and the sun would be up, until then he'd practice by moonlight. Not like the bad guys cared if it was harder to hit them with nightvision. He searches around for things to use for targets, a few bottles would do.

Closing the trunk, Dean starts marching towards the old battered fence. He'll focus on shooting till he doesn't have a goddamn thought in his head.

The following day, Castiel arrives at sundown as Dean had specified. Neither of them acknowledges the kiss but there's a new tension between them. It had been there from the moment he looked down at him on the floor of his bedroom, but now it's heavy in every pause. Makes every stare meaningful.. purposeful.. awkward. Castiel is acutely aware of every time their hands are too close or exactly how far apart they stand. Especially now that they were confined to Dean's car, only a few feet away from each other. He has to concentrate on keeping his wings tucked tight to his back so they don't accidentally brush Dean's side. It had already happened twice and they both had ignored it.. though he heard Dean's intake of breath and noticed his grip tighten on the steering wheel, seeming painful.

"Where are we going?" he asks for something other to focus on.

Dean answers with his eyes on the road. "Crowley's big kahuna of demon dealmakers, right?"

"He is their leader," Castiel answers, assuming 'big kahuna' meant something similar.

"And he called himself King of the Crossroads. So one plus one equals.."

"Two," he provides, unsure of where Dean was going with this.

After giving him a sigh, he says, "Yeah and also his little butt monkeys make their deals at a crossroads. That's where we're headed."

"And what makes you think one will appear?"

"I called a friend of mine, yesterday. Bobby. He gave me the list of ingredients and recipe for getting some face time with one. I'm gonna ring it up just like I wanna play let's make a deal."

"Dean this is unwise. With Alastair's sudden re-emergence and the increase in demonic activity.. we shouldn't be revealing your whereabouts to one of them. We are meeting with Crowley-"

"Cas, I'm not waiting around for some shifty sonofabitch in a suit to pencil me in."

"Your impatience is making you reckless," he says with disapproval.

"Yeah well I have to do something. I can't sit on my hands just waiting."

Cas tilts his head. "And what do you propose to do if a demon does show up?"

"Persuade it to tell me what I need to know."

It sounds hollow as Dean doesn't look at him. He squints his eyes and asks, "Did your father teach you that?"

"What?"

"Torture."

Dean seems slightly shocked, uncomfortably shifting in his seat as he looks at him briefly.

"Jesus, it's not.. they're just demons."

Cas nods, looking down as the car pulls off the road into the grass about a mile away from where a dirt road crosses it. "I just wish things had been different for you."

Dean clenches his jaw and abruptly halts the car so they jerk forward. He turns to him in his seat. "Yeah, well wishin' don't do shit. Wishin' didn't bring my mom back, it never made you give a damn. Never made a ghoul stop or a vamp back off. It didn't-"

Dean stops himself, getting so worked up he's heaving slightly. Castiel presses his lips, wanting to say something to comfort him but there weren't words to soothe that pain.

Staring at the car radio, he continues. "There ain't no easy way, Cas. You gotta get the blood and dirt under your fingernails."

Angrily, Dean reaches over towards the glove compartment in front of his knees and he follows the moment with his eyes. His bent head is right in front of him as he pulls out a flashlight. Should he reach out to him? Could he just encircle his arms around Dean's shoulders? Would he welcome it or be angered further? But the moment is gone as Dean opens his door to get out and slams it behind him.

Castiel gives him a few minutes alone before he opens his own door. As he comes around the back, he sees Dean holding a picture of his family. Whole. One he'd seen larger in a frame on the downstairs wall of his home. When he notices he's not alone, Dean stashes it in his pocket and pulls out an ID card of some sort, placing it in a small box. He then starts moving various bottles around as if he's searching for something.

Dean's posture is rigid and his eyes never deviate from the contents of the trunk. Again he'd managed to hurt him. He should have stayed away from him as Michael said.

"I'm sorry if I upset you."

"Forget about it," Dean says gruffly while reading a faded label on a tin. Castiel watches him pull out a small bone from it and place it in the box. After inspecting several more labels, makes a grunt of recognition.

"Graveyard dirt," he says, dumping the contents of another bag over the card and bone. Then shuts the trunk.

"Dean."

He pauses but doesn't look up at him.

"I did.." it almost physically hurts to halt the words but Castiel spoke before he could stop himself. He should tell him.. he will tell him. He'll tell Dean now.. he can't bear to continue letting him think he was indifferent so many years.

"You did what?" he glares back at him with impatience.

Castiel opens his mouth, but something catches his attention up ahead where the roads meet. "Someone is here."

Dean ducks around the car to see the small figure walking into the middle.. right into the crossroads. They both slowly walk a few feet forward and crouch down. The nearest streetlamp is ahead and to the left, not illuminating the center where the person is digging with their hands. It's impossible to make out much more than they seem to have a small build and long hair. They stand up, dusting their hands off on their pants and spin to search the darkness. Dean breathes shallowly next to him as they both silently wait to see how this will play out.

Several minutes later, Castiel tenses when a woman appears in the middle of the light from the streetlamp, a few feet away from the human that summoned it. It's in a provocative red dress, dark brown hair falling in curls around its bare shoulders. Despite its alluring appearance, Castiel can see the vile, bitter thing hiding beneath.

"You said she'd be okay!" the human, a female, screams at it from the shadows.

"I said she was cured. And she was," it laughs throatily, stepping closer. "Heart attack, wasn't it? Bad luck, Red."

"Bring her back!"

"Sorry, Sweetie. You're all outta currency and I'm outta patience." The demon suddenly yanks the girl's long hair back in a tight grip that brings her tear-streaked face into the light.

Beside him, Dean gasps softly. Castiel looks from Dean to the girl and remembers the last time he saw her was swinging a pillow at Dean's head in his bedroom. He'd wanted to harm this girl very much in that instant.

"Call me again and I'll collect early."

Within a blink, she's gone and Charlie crumples to her knees in the dirt. Dean stands next to him and approaches her slowly. Wearily. She sobs, not paying attention to him even as he bends down in front of her.

"Charlie?"

After a moment, she sniffs and sucks in a heavy breath and looks up. It takes several seconds of staring but finally she asks, "Winchester?"

Castiel gives them space to talk, standing by the car as Dean and her sit in the middle of the road. He wills himself to ignore the jealousy that rises within after she encircles his neck with her arms and holds him tight for a long minute. Like he had wanted to do but didn't. He turns away from Dean grabbing her just as tight before the envy can darken his thoughts too much. After almost an hour has passed, they both stand and brush dirt off their clothes. He walks towards them.

Charlie turns to him when reaches them, stepping slightly closer to Dean's side.

"You're kinda dreamy for a dateline stalker."

Furrowing his brow, he says, "I don't understand."

Dean shakes his head. "Nothin'. Charlie thinks she's being funny."

Charlie laughs once before sniffing and wiping under her eyes. "Sorry, bad timing. Well I should go.."

She hugs Dean one last time and gives a small wave towards him before walking off into the dark towards a small yellow car parked a ways down the road.

Dean turns and walks through the tall grass towards the Impala.

Once they're on the road, he starts talking.

"So you remember Charlie right?"

"Yes, you are not her type because you don't have the right equipment." Castiel quotes from memory.

Dean frowns and turns to him with one hand on the wheel. "Yeah.. way to remember the important stuff.."

Castiel nods at the compliment.

"Anyway, she was approached by a guy in a black on black suit about 4 years ago that told her he knew of a way to help her sick mother."

"Crowley."

"Yep. Bastard sent her here and she made the deal for her mom. They gave her ten years but the mom died of a heart attack a few days ago."

Feelings of remorse begin to fill Castiel at the knowledge that this girl was grieving for a lost loved one and all he could focus on was his own spiteful thoughts.

"Ain't that a breach of contract or something?"

"The deal was not broken. If the demon was speaking the truth, then the stipulations were only to cure the mother of her disease. Not prevent death from unforeseen circumstances."

"Well what if I call it back and kill it? Would it-"

"Her contract is most likely held by Crowley. Killing the handler will not help her. Even if you were to kill Crowley, her soul is still condemned upon death."

"Dammit Cas! She was just a scared kid. Can't you freaking do anything for her?"

Anger flares up inside him and he tightens his jaw. "I cannot prevent the consequences a human brings upon themself by trafficking with the damned."

Dean loses some of his own anger and sighs. "Look I'm sorry. I didn't mean to put it on you. It's just, I can't accept doing nothing. She's.. a friend."

After watching the weariness cross his face, Castiel softens and says "I am sorry for her Dean, but I know of no way to help."

"Yeah well, I'm gonna take it up with that prick Crowley first chance I get."

"You have nothing to trade, Dean, and you can't break his contract by force. We only have a tentative truce so as to obtain information and at great danger each time. He will not relinquish a soul without a battle we are not prepared for. Most of our brothers and sisters would not approach a demon as we do and it will take more than the four of us to win such a fight."

"We'll see. I'm stubborn. Have a little faith in me." Dean smiles but it's only half-hearted.

He pulls into his motel parking lot and turns off the engine.

"Are you planning on returning to the crossroads to interrogate the demon as you planned?"

"Nah, seeing Charlie changed things. I don't wanna torture one of his lackeys until I know her soul is off the table."

Castiel presses his lips to stop himself from again repeating that there is no way to free her soul from the demon's grasp. Perhaps he needs this hope to obstinately latch onto.

Following him to his door, Castiel waits for Dean tell him goodbye. He doesn't want to leave him just yet, but he doesn't have another reason to stay.

"Thanks for the backup."

"Of course, Dean. Please call me if you intend on any other such confrontations."

"It's cool. I know you got angel business to flit around and do."

"Dean." He steps forward, anxiousness moving him. "Do not be so foolish as to attempt finding Alastair on your own. I've told you I will help."

Dean smiles faintly. "Thanks for your concern. I'll ring you up if I need ya."

He hates the way Dean sounds so impersonal. But he does have every right. He had been very close to speaking about the last few lost years but now the moment seemed gone. Dean was once again wrapped in his hard exterior and that much more unapproachable. And truthfully, he's looking for a reason to leave without this conversation. It's cowardly, he admits but he lost the words on the drive back.

Castiel's about to say Goodnight, when he hears the sound of wings. He feels one of his sibling's grace calling out to his. Turning his head to where the wall curves to the back of the building, he listens. There's another familiar noise of feathers rustling and he stares at the spot waiting.

"What is it?" Dean turns to look at what drew his attention.

"Nothing," Castiel says, frowning. Facing him again he continues, "Pray to me if you need me. Otherwise I will see you in two days time."

"Cas-"

He walks along the wall of rooms, away from Dean. When he reaches its end, he turns. It's the same dark wooded area he'd departed from with Dean yesterday. Stepping within the tree line, he listens. A slight shifting of the air and behind him a hand descends on his shoulder and he hears a deep, "Castiel."

Uriel has found him.

+++ +++ +++ +++

Dean watches him walk off. After waiting only a minute or two, he pockets the motel key and quietly follows after. When he reaches the end of the wall Cas had disappeared around, he flattens against it and edges his head around the side.

It's a tall, bulky male, black from the back of his head but that's all he can see. He almost blocks Cas' body entirely. He wears a sleeveless white shirt with black pants. There's an wide gold cuff like Cas', moonlight hitting it so he must be an angel but he doesn't give two fucks about that right now because the asshole is barking at him in low tones. Grabbing his shoulder in a way that looks painful and Cas just takes it, head slightly bowed. He steps closer to hear.. maybe do something else if he can't stop himself.

"-and you bring that.. that MudMonkey within our dwelling? How dare you, Castiel?!" He shoves the shoulder he's gripping and Cas takes a step back, but doesn't meet his gaze.

"You are no longer a fledgling. We will not tolerate your childish behavior again! Pining after a human like some besotted dog. How many days- how many years did you waste watching over that-"

"I am only helping him to kill the demon Alastair now. Nothing more."

"You lie even as you say the words. What causes this pathetic enthrallment? Like your sister before you, you have some sort of morbid fascination-"

"Do not speak of her." Castiel looks up suddenly angry. As he does, his eyes catch sight of Dean. He just stands there, staring back with his mouth a little open. Blade forgotten, after hearing about.. Cas watching him. A hundred thoughts flicker through his mind in the time it takes for the big guy to notice Cas' attention is somewhere else and turns. Had Cas been to see him?

"Leave us, Child. No one summoned you."

That knocks him out of his stupor. "And who the hell-" As he steps closer, Dean gets a hazy flash of recognition at his face. Like a memory he didn't have a place or time for. "Wait, I know you.."

"Doubtful," he scoffs.

"What do you mean?" Castiel squints his eyes, looking between them.

"I think.. I think I dreamed about him." He'd been in a suit then, so he looked just like any other teacher. At his school, slamming him against a locker or something.

Castiel abruptly turns back to the other angel. "Why would you invade Dean's dreams, Uriel?"

He looks down his nose at him and says, "I merely told him to leave you be."

Dean snorts. "Yeah.. I seem to remember something about turning me to dust?"

Uriel doesn't even acknowledge him, like he's beneath his lofty ass.

"You were losing your focus, Castiel. Our divine purpose is to eradicate the demonic presence here.. not chase after the attentions of this hairless ape."

"Yeah well you're doing a shit job of it. Eradicating the demons.." Dean grunts. "Where were you when they tricked a teenage girl out of her soul? Or tried to do twisted ritual to do God knows what and a hunter got eviscerated? Or hey I don't know.. the night demons killed my mother? Cas is the only one that showed up to do something about it and there were a lot of fucking demons to eradicate then. Where the hell were you that night?"

"Elsewhere. Fighting our own battle. Castiel only showed up because he broke ranks to come to you. Something he was _severely_ punished for afterwards."

Dean looks at him but Cas is staring off to his right, not facing either of them.

"That true?"

When he finally makes eye contact in unspoken confirmation, Dean can't turn away. He's starting to think Cas put up some bullshit face and maybe he did miss him. Did want him. In his way. He needed to know what the hell Uriel meant before.

"What does he mean you watched over me? He talkin' about you coming to my window or.." he takes a breath. "Or after I left?"

Cas just looks at him with that fucking blank look of his. He can't think of what to ask first.

"Why didn't you tell me? Talk to me? Why-"

"Enough of this stupidity. You've wasted enough time on him. Now leave this human to his petty issues."

"He doesn't have to go with you, Ass Clown."

"I do have to go, Dean." Cas says, solemnly.

Stepping closer, he grits out under his breath, "Damnit Cas, I need to talk to you."

"Your needs are not of interest to us. Come, Castiel."

"He's not your dog to order- Cas?" He says after him as he turns away. Uriel lifts into the sky out of sight and Cas braces to kick off the ground too. He's going to fucking leave. Just like that. Dean suddenly strides forward, steps around him and reaches out and grabs his shoulders so he doesn't take off.

He looks startled, blue eyes wide. The muscles on his shoulder blades are already working and he can hear the sound of his wings moving.

"Dean. Please."

"Cas.." he doesn't what else to say to make him stay.

"Castiel!"

He looks up wearily. While he's still distracted, Dean moves forward and catches his lips. It's in desperation for his attention and to make him wait. Stop. Not just take off without something more. Cas doesn't respond, still tense as a bow string but Dean licks over his lips then inside when his mouth slackens for him. Cas makes a small helpless noise as he gives in and cups the back of Dean's neck.

Dean lets go of all the pain, anger and confusion between them for just a few seconds of sweet bliss then he pulls back just a fraction so they're not kissing anymore but still too close. Cas breathes over his lips, eyes shut with his forehead resting on Dean's.

"Come back when you can." Dean says brushing his lips at the end and squeezing his shoulder.

Cas winces like he's in pain at the words then sighs. "Dean.."

Then he's roughly yanked out of Dean's hold. The hand disappears from his neck and within a blink, Cas is gone.


	18. A Happy Thought

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just once. Maybe I could stop thinking about you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey Kiddos. This one is extra long so I apologize for any mistakes I missed. I'll read through it a few more times tomorrow but I wanted to get it out to you tonight. 
> 
> All my love..

Castiel stands in the shadows, by the side of her house.

She's planted a new tree since he's been here last. It looks like an orange tree. How odd that she's made such a life here. Found happiness cut off from all that she knew. Now she gardens and kisses the same man goodbye every morning as he leaves in a suit, has a cat she feeds, waits for fruit from a tree to grow. She has things that would miss her.

She comes outside now, wrapping a shawl around her shoulders and sitting on the steps of the porch.

Dean had told him to come to him when he was able.. and instead he came here. It's cowardly, but even with the turmoil and danger surrounding them, he knows the next time he sees Dean it will be... significant. He won't attempt to hide the truth from him any longer, not after he'd overheard Uriel's chastisement.

Castiel comes here now for clarity. For a respite before.. whatever he was going to do. Which at this moment, he still doesn't know exactly what that will be.

A day had passed since Dean willingly kissed him. He had held the memory close while Uriel paced in front of him shouting nothing but contempt for his "human pet". Michael had voiced solemn disapproval that Castiel would continue after he'd instructed him otherwise.

Balthazar said he needed to tell both of them to fuck off. But he noticed it wasn't within their hearing.

During a break in their scolding, he did ask, "Balthazar finds companionship, frequently and thoroughly-"

"Hey," he protests.

"-With humans, as I have in the past. Why am I punished now?"

"Ha," Gabriel laughs once at that. "Not helping yourself, Little Bro."

Michael shakes his head. "You know the difference, Castiel. Do not pretend this human is the same as any others you and your brothers have had momentary couplings with. You do not act rationally where he is concerned. You have disobeyed direct orders, brought him here, gone to him in secret. Solidifying your attachment to him further.." he trails off.

"Yes?" Castiel meets his eyes, steadily.

"It is an abomination, Castiel!" Uriel finishes. "You pollute your very grace the more you mire yourself within this insanity."

"I cannot believe our Father would so disdain the feelings I-" he cuts himself off, clenching his jaw.

Gabriel saves him. "Castiel's choice of boytoy aside, he could be useful in going after that twisted puppy, Alastair. He came to us with info. It's worth a shot."

Since they couldn't reveal their plan to meet a demon in two nights or the fact that they didn't really need Dean at this point, he kept silent and allowed Gabriel to speak.

"We do not need-" Uriel cuts off with a huff when Michael raises his arm.

"You will accompany him?" he asks Gabriel.

"Like a cockblocking mother hen," he smiles too big. Castiel wants to lash out at all of them. He is no child but before he can Michael continues.

"When this is over, however it ends, you will part ways."

He frowns and feels his flight feathers stiffen with a sharp straightening of his back. "Michael," he begins.

"Or, if you find you cannot.. then we will assist you, Brother."

Gabriel suddenly has a hard look as Balthazar straightens out of his slump in the chair. Uriel positively beams.

"What does that mean?" he squints at them all with distrust.

"You can return to Heaven for Revelation. Guidance." Michael tightens his mouth, "For a period of no less than a century."

"A century?" Castiel swallows, looking to each of them with disbelief. He had not heard of obligatory remanding to Heaven before.

"Yes. Until this human has lived out his natural life and all remnants of him are wiped from the Earth."

Just the thought makes him internally panic, causing blood to rush in his ears as he struggles not to show the overwhelming emotion rolling through him. Never to see Dean again. He always imagined he'd still be able to watch Dean grow old. Stay on the outskirts of his life and ensure his safety. Hopefully see him find some happiness and in turn be happy in that. But to be absent as Dean just slipped away.. lost through the years like he was any other human.

What if they didn't allow him to explain to Dean first? He would think he left him. That he didn't care after all.

"No!" Castiel exhales through his nose, and meets each of their gazes one at a time. "No. I will work with him to complete my mission, to kill demons as we are ordered. Then, when it is over... it will be over."

Gabriel frowns at them all and Balthazar is strangely quiet for once. Uriel lifts his chin and looks to Michael who nods.

"Good, Castiel. Good."

And so now he stands at the corner of Anna's house, under her new orange tree, trying to decide if going to Dean is the right thing to do. Worth the pain for both of them. If Dean were to kiss him again, his resolve would weaken.

This is another place he should not be.. just another way he fails his brothers. What is in him that causes this defiance? Why can he not be happy falling in line as others do?

Lost in his own wretched musings, Castiel doesn't notice her staring hard into the clusters of darkness surrounding him.

"Cas?" she calls with a frown.

His heart stutters, as he immediately focuses on her. Should he leave? She would hear the sound of wings and know it for what it was.

"Cas, please don't go," she whispers to the darkness but stays where she is.

He doesn't leave, but concentrates on being as still as possible until she is convinced she's wrong, imagined him.

"I know you're there," she continues softly. "I always know."

He's quiet, breathing shallowly. Nervous, heart pounding at the taboo of this act, he steps out of the protective shadows and lets her see him. Her eyes instantly fixate on him and she stands.

She moves stiffer than she used to. Slower. Light gray strands mix within her red locks. He didn't notice when it happened, he assumed she would stay as she always was in his memory.

They stare at each other from only ten feet away. He shifts his weight and rolls his shoulders, feathers twitching restless with his thoughts of flying away and never being so foolish as to be caught again.

Anna's eyes follow the moment as if she can see them before she steps quickly forward, stopping only a few feet away when he steps back wearily.

"No. Please. Just.. just stay for a little while. Talk to me."

"I should not be here," he says, looking around as if one of his brothers was waiting to condemn him. Would they send him for Revelation for this last offense?

"But you are. You're here a lot, aren't you?"

Castiel doesn't answer.

"You could have talked to me."

"No. I couldn't." His tone is flat.

"Because you're a good soldier?" Anna bites off with sudden bitterness. "Obedient? It doesn't have to be this way."

"This was your choice, Sister. You chose to leave me."

"I chose to leave _them_. Not you," she says fiercely.

"Please." His voice breaks on the word as she steps forward and wraps him in her arms. Even as he stays tense and unresponsive, she holds him tight. After a stiff minute of her not letting go, he can't help pulling his arms free and encircling her neck. This is just another way he has failed but he'd rather be damned than leave her now. His sister.. with all her faults, she would always be that. His sister. Angel or not.

+++ +++ +++ +++ +++

Dean spent the whole night waiting for Cas to come back. Even in the day while he was exhausted, he could only drift in and out, sleeping with one ear listening for the sound of feathers.

But Cas didn't show during the day either.

Now it was night again and getting drunk sounded pretty damn good. Especially after he'd lost contact with his dad. Last time they'd talked was before Cas showed to go on their fieldtrip to the crossroads. He'd been following a lead to a possible possession in Hawthorne, Nevada and was supposed to check in last night. Sure some days he fell off the map for a night, but this didn't feel like one of them. Not when they were hunting for kingpin demons.

And Cas… he wasn't even gonna pray to Cas. If someone was preventing him from coming.. or if he just didn't want to come.. either way he wasn't here and Dean wasn't gonna beg. He was done with that. Ball was in his court.

Tomorrow night, they'd have a graveyard picnic with that demon douche but tonight, Dean was free to drink his way into oblivion.

Maybe he'd go looking for something to kill first.

+++ +++ +++ +++ +++

"Are you content?" Castiel asks her.

"I am."

"With your human." He manages to say it without the bitterness he often felt.

"Even without him, I am happy here. In this way."

"But you grow older. I see the lines on your face even now."

"Brother, it's impolite to mention a woman's age," she smiles, making them deeper around her mouth and eyes. "In the short time I have here, it's fulfilling in a way service to Heaven never was. I've found someone to share it with me and that makes it even better. All the time I spent watching them.. they experience life, Castiel. Not battle. Not duty. They make marks on their world.. on each other's world."

Anna sighs then adds, "And then of course there's chocolate cake."

He doesn't laugh with her, only asks, "Your human. You.. love him." It might be the first time he's ever said the word outloud and it sounds foreign on his tongue now.

"Robert," she supplies. "Yes, very much."

"Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why do you love him?"

Anna makes a little laugh. "A hundred reasons."

"Tell me a few," Castiel says, staring at his clasped hands.

"He lets me burn his food but still praises my attempts. When I find myself sad on some days, he holds me. The way he laughs, touches my face, asks which tie to wear each morning, kisses -

"Enough," he says gently. After a moment, Castiel tries to put his thoughts into a question. "Even though you've found happiness with this man, this life.. will it not all have been for nothing when you die? One of you will be pulled from the other and left to despair. Would it not have been better to never have begun?"

"Cas.." she thinks for a moment. "Let me tell you this. I know not of what tomorrow brings, but if it were to be his death, then most certainly I would grieve. But I would also be thankful for the time I had with him. The joy I found in our time together. All things come to an end."

Castiel blinks at her, transfixed by her words. Her lips begin to pull up in a bemused expression. "You seem.. what's different about you?"

"I am no longer a fledgling, as you knew me."

"No.. it's more."

She waits for him to silently debate with himself. To talk with her like this.. it's too much of a temptation.

"About eleven years ago.." Castiel pauses to choose his words carefully. "I befriended a boy."

"A boy? A _human_ boy?"

"Yes."

Anna considers that. "While you were still a fledgling? How rebellious of you."

He glances at her, then away.

"I'm glad you made a friend, Casti-" she coughs hard for a few seconds.

"Are you alright?" he straightens, watching her with concern.

"Fine. Just a cold. Humans get colds." Clearing her throat, she continues, "So, this friend..."

He's silent as she appraises him. Given enough time, she will come to the correct conclusion. He's certain she still knows him this well.

"Is he a friend still?"

"Yes."

"But no longer a boy."

"No."

"Are you lovers?"

"Anna." His face heats at the words from his sister.

"What? Don't tell me I got it wrong."

"We were close once, but it is complicated as you well know. We are worlds apart."

She scoffs at that but surprises him by only asking, "Will you tell me about him?"

Castiel hunches his shoulders, curving his wings around himself slightly.

"He's stubborn."

"Anything else?" she pushes at his knees, playfully. An old gesture.

"Obstinate. Impatient. Reckless. Impulsive…"

"I can see why you like him," she says with sarcasm.

Taking a breath and closing his eyes, he continues, "And brave. Protective. Selfless. Strong.. Beautiful. His eyes are the color of summer leaves."

For a moment, he sees Dean in his head, smiling sinfully at him. He opens his eyes and darts a self-conscious look at Anna who's grinning at him.

Biting his lip, he adds, "He's a Hunter."

"Wow. You and a Hunter. He any good?"

"Of course he is." Castiel's wings uncurl and stiffen in offense on Dean's behalf. "He can shoot human weapons at great distances, farther than most humans. He has bested demons and creatures alike for years. Though he is young in years, he has-"

"Okay, calm down. You can stop selling him to me."

Castiel smiles shyly, realizing he had gone on more than he intended.

"Does he make you happy?"

His smile falls. She understands nothing.

"Anna. It is not the same between us as with you and your human."

"Why not?"

"You know I am beholden to our cause. I am only with him now because we are tracking a demon together. After it is dead.. we must part." He adds the last with bitterness he can't suppress.

Frowning she asks, "Must? What garrison were you placed with? Who are your nest mates?"

"Balthazar, Gabriel, Rachel was slain four years ago..." After a moment he adds,"Michael and Uriel."

She clenches her jaw at the last two names. "Michael and Uriel."

"They've already.. suggested I take Revelation for.. for several decades."

"Threatened, you mean," she shakes her head in disgust.

Sighing he tries to defend them as he should.

"They said it was our Father's will. That He would want-"

"Our Father? Did He suddenly appear while I was gone?"

"No."

"How dare they speak for someone who's been absent since practically the dawn of time? I doubt they have ever laid eyes on him."

"Gabriel said he spoke with Him. Long ago."

"Gabriel would tell you the moon was made of cheese. He did you no favors in talking of our Father. If you want someone to believe in, Cas, you believe in yourself. And if you find someone worthy of it, you believe in them too."

He furrows his brow, watching her. Taking in her words and rolling them around in his mind.

Robert opens the door behind them and a wedge of light pours over them. "Hun? It's time for your med- oh, hello."

Castiel just looks at him.

"You okay?" he asks Anna.

"Yes." She smiles big and holds out an arm to put a hand on his shoulder. "Robert, this is my brother. Cas."

+++ +++ +++ +++ +++

Dean sits on the window sill, one leg hanging off the edge, watching the embers finally burn out. The pit in his childhood backyard had the bones of two demons he'd taken on more than an hour ago. Coming here guaranteed a fight and that was exactly what he'd gotten. His cheek has a deep scratch across it but he just wipes the blood away once in a while and takes another sip from the bottle of Jack in his lap.

Swallowing a gulp, Dean twirls the black feather slowly between his thumb and finger, staring at it like he so often did. He thinks about Cas' wings because he doesn't want to think about why his father isn't answering his phone. Why it's been a day since Cas got hauled out of his arms and into the sky. Instead he focuses on the deep black of the feather. There should be a better name for that kind of black. Something like.. when you get a huge box of crayons there's maybe 5 different blacks so there's Charcoal, Pitch, Coal, Onyx, Obsidian. Yeah that's a nice long one. Obsidian. Sounds worthy of an angel's feather.

Dean takes another sip, wondering why it never bent or frayed over the years as he held it. Even now when his fingers are blood-stained, it doesn't stick or dampen the soft edges as it should. Man.. Cas has probably hundreds of these. He can almost remember the feel of them if he tries. They must be something to see. Not that he ever will but he can imagine. And in his head.. shit, they're gorgeous.

When he hears a sudden whip of air, Dean palms the feather and shoves it into his jacket pocket. Cas steps onto the little sill space that's left and braces a hand on the frame above him.

"Dean, what are you doing here? Are you hurt?"

"Careful, Cas. I might catch on that you care." He smirks around the bottle as he takes another swallow.

Glancing at the dwindling smoke then at Dean's face, the angel steps past him down onto the window seat inside. Frowning, he reaches forward and touches his cheek. Warmth chases down the gash and it stops pulsing with pain instantly.

"You didn't have to do that."

Cas tilts his head and looks him over. "What's wrong?"

"What's right?" he says tiredly. "So what's the deal, you okay? Tall, dark and dick-ish get you in trouble?"

"It was unpleasant," he hedges, sitting on the wooden bench that lines the window. Dean moves his foot a little back to give him room.

"But you're okay." Dean says steadily, needing to confirm this first.

Clenching his jaw, Cas looks out at the night. "It's been decided that when we have finished with Alastair, that will be the last I see of you."

Dean purses his lips and nods, bitterly. "And you're cool with that."

"Dean, it's not that simple."

"Yeah it really is, Cas." Sighing he says, "Look why don't you just-" he gestures out the window and tips precariously near the outside.

Cas grabs his jacket sleeve, then his other arm, to steady him. There's a moment where they're too close before he sits back down and Dean smirks a little watching him go.

"You should not be near windows. They will most certainly be the death of you."

Dean laughs before taking another pull. What the hell. With the relief of even seeing Cas again and the booze making his belly warm and muscles loose.. what's the point of fucking being mad? It is what it is. They weren't ever gonna be able to have anything together anyway. Might as well enjoy the time they got.

"Because I'm a glutton for punishment, tell me about what Uriel said last night." He doesn't even trip over the name and that's saying something at the moment.

"Will it not make it harder?" Cas asks, staring down at his bare feet.

"Probably but tell me anyway."

Cas leans forward to brace his elbows on his knees. "It's true I.. may have come to.. assure myself you were okay a few times." It's stilted like he's editing it mid-thought.

"A few times?"

Cas looks up and softly answers, "More than a few times."

Dean turns to look out the window so he doesn't see the smile he can't keep back. Turning back he asks, "So? What'dya see?"

"That you were hurting but unharmed."

"Why didn't you ever come up and say hey, hows it goin', freakin' anything?"

"I believed in the long run, it would have been more difficult. For both of us."

"Wish you woulda let me in on that decision."

They're quiet for a few minutes, Dean lost in memories of feeling like Cas was near.. maybe he really had been. After eying him, Dean holds out the bottle. "Want some?"

"No, thank you."

"C'mon man, don't make me drink alone."

"I don't believe it will have any effect on me."

"Well that bites. You guys can't get drunk?"

Cas shakes his head, preoccupied with checking the yard out the window again to make sure nothing moves in the shadow of the trees.

"Not even Billy Idol? Woulda thought he's one for over indulgence." The need to laugh over the idea of Billy Idol as an angel rocker has him chuckling through the next sip.

"Who are you referring to?"

"Baltha-whatever."

"Balthazar."

"Geez, your names are all sooo long. And like impossible to pronounce right now." He smiles because he can't help going with the false good feelings that the Jack is giving him. "That's why I like Cas. Short. Sweet. Fuck, do I reeeally like Cas," Dean slightly slurs and reaches forward to rub a thumb over his bottom lip. He lets him do it but frowns. Of course he's frowning. He's always frowning.

"I do not always frown," Cas says, still frowning. Oops he must have said that out loud.

"Why are your lips so goddamn pink and pretty like a fucking girls?" he asks not taking his eyes away from them. He rubs his thumb back and forth to trace his mouth until Cas grabs his hand to stop him.

"You are very affectionate when you drink alcohol," he notes, licking over his lips right where Dean just touched and Jesus that made them look even more tempting.

"Yep, I'm a handsy drunk. Which makes sense. They go hand and hand, don't they?"

"What does?" Cas says, distracted by the way Dean is tracing a scar on his arm.

"Drinkin' and fuckin'."

Dean lets his lips pull up in a smile and leans forward. Maybe they could do this. Get it out of the way so it stopped hanging between them every time they were together. Maybe just once, so he'd have this to remember when he never saw Cas again. Though his intention was to get Cas' thoughts in that direction, instead the angel only flicks his eyes up at him, suddenly annoyed.

"I'm sure you would know, Dean."

Dean lifts his head back from where he'd been only an inch or two away and tries to think past the buzz.

"What would you know about it? Oh, that's right. You came to visit and never clued me in. You stay to watch me with some chick? Get a good eye-full?"

"Stop it."

"I don't need that self-righteous look, okay? Don't fucking judge me. You don't even know what it's like… what's it like to fucking need to feel something and someone-"

"Dean, I have had intercourse."

That sobers him up a little and, ridiculously, he feels a surge of hurt. He hadn't really thought past when he left. That Cas might find another to do all his firsts with just like Dean had. He imagined him here, frozen in time the way he left him. A little older looking but essentially still the same clueless angel that needed instruction on how to kiss.

Dean looks away and grits out, "Well yeah, course you have. Why the fuck not, right?"

"Does it bother you?" Cas asks, raising an eyebrow and knowing full well it fucking did.

"Why should it?"

Cas doesn't answer and the silence fucking gnaws at him with thoughts of his angel sweaty and sated with someone else. "It doesn't. Of course you'd find a new twinky teen. Did you have to talk to him for hours before he'd let you fuck him into the mattress?" It sounds petulant but he can't rein it in. His mind is full of swirling images, one ugly thought after another.

"Dean." Cas glares, standing. "Stop this."

"Did he pray to you?" Dean shoves him backwards and stumbles down the window seat after him. They both get to their feet with Dean still pushing him as soon as he's steady. "Did you give him a goddamn feather too?!"

Cas pushes back hard and Dean lands on his ass. "And did you think of me often while you were giving yourself to anyone that would have you?" The fists at his sides ball as he steadily growls down at him, "I mourned you! Like a fallen brother. Like-" he cuts himself off by pressing his lips. After a second, he leans down to calmly finish. "Do not presume to cheapen what I felt for you."

It was getting hard to focus on him and harder to listen to the words that hurt. Dean lets his head fall back against the wood and stares up at the ceiling, breathing hard. Dammit, the room was spinning now. Wincing, he clutches his temples as Cas moves around the room doing.. something. He can't concentrate on it too much. Not throwing up is all he has room to focus on. After a minute or so, something soft is wedged under his head and a blanket tossed onto his stomach.

"They are from a closet. I would move you, but I don't believe you would welcome that."

"God, no," he groans. The blanket beneath his head smells musty, but hell if he cares right now. "I'll be alright in a few hours.. just gotta.. sleep a bit.." He curls onto his side around the blanket. Fuck demons and angels and dads right now.

He feels Cas' insane warmth along his back and sinks against his side just a little.

"You're staying?" he mumbles with his eyes closed.

"Go to sleep, Dean."

+++ +++ +++ +++ +++

Dean jolts awake, not knowing where he is for a moment. His body is stiff from laying on a wooden floor and someone's arm is under his head. When he lifts his head to see over his shoulder, Cas takes back his arm and props it behind his own head. He doesn't look at him, only stares upward.

Sitting up, Dean says, "Hey. Thought maybe you'd leave."

"I could not leave you here unprotected." Meeting his eyes he adds, "Also I'm not overly eager to return to my brothers. Gabriel is meant to be with me. I have a while longer."

"Honest Gabe." Dean grunts. "How long was I out?"

"Almost four hours."

Groaning, Dean rubs his face. "I need a shower."

"I will wait."

"At the motel. There ain't gonna be any water here, man." His head aches and he's not up to explaining about the Water Company right now.

Cas decides to come along with him, which feels more than uncomfortable after remembering how he'd started coming on pretty strong until he got all bitchy about Cas having sex before. He'd like to think it was the Jack that made him angry but the idea still bothered him even now. Which is dumb. He had sex. Plenty. Why not Cas? He repeats that thought over and over to himself.

The Tylenol starts kicking in about halfway back to the motel. They've been quiet and mostly ignoring each other, so it probably sounds out of the blue when he suddenly asks, "So what was it like?"

Cas turns to him. "What?"

"Sex. I mean for you."

After a moment of consideration, he answers, "Insufficient."

When he doesn't continue, Dean laughs once. "You wanna elaborate?"

Cas shifts his eyes ahead to out the window. "Even while I found pleasure in another.. it was empty. Any connection I had with them ended at a physical level."

Dean glances at him, then at the road again before admitting, "Yeah, I know what ya mean."

"Do you?" Cas tilts his head at him in surprise. "I would have thought it was different for you."

"Blood, salt and death, day in and day out.. you gotta hold on to that happy thought. But after a while.. it's just.. just that. Something to make ya feel good for a few hours. I checked outta the touchy feely parts a long time ago. One night stands are easy. Scratch the itch and keep on moving."

"Did you ever want more?"

"No.. not really. Can you imagine a girlfriend sticking around to sew up a werewolf scratch or clean a vampire bite?" Dean scoffs. "What I am now.. There's no room for anything else."

Reaching the motel, he pulls into the parking space in front of his door and asks, "You comin' in?"

Cas nods and follows him inside, still quiet. Contemplative. Dean leaves him, grabbing his duffle up and walking into the bathroom. He tries to ignore that he's out there while he washes off the dried blood from the demon fight. The warm water beating against his skin helps clear his head from the grogginess of drinking earlier. Sleep and a shower, best hangover cure there was.

Dean doesn't bother to pull any of the bullshit of coming out with his shirt off this time. Things are too weird with them as it is. He buttons his jeans, throws on a shirt and even tugs on a flannel before he opens the bathroom door.

Cas is sitting on the counter, hands gripping the edge at his sides and deep in thought.

"So what are you brooding over?" he asks, leaning against the opposite counter of the small kitchenette.

Furrowing his brow, Cas asks, "So these one time stands-"

"One night stands," Dean corrects.

"Yes. They were all female?"

Dean rubs his neck and glances away, kinda uncomfortable.

"Well yeah."

Cas nods like he expected that and Dean amends before he can stop himself. "Um.. Mostly."

"Mostly?" Cas tenses all of the sudden.

"I uh.. I tried a few times but it never worked out. They all were.. They wanted me to be.." he flails.

Fuck. Why did he even say anything? He really needed to just shut up before this got anymore awkward.

Cas raises an eyebrow and it feels like he can read his mind. Maybe he was. Talking about this feels.. It feels like they're dancing around the tension between them.

"They wanted you to be.." Cas repeats, hopping down.

"Uh.." Dean has time to utter before without pausing Cas walks in between his hanging legs and puts his hands on the counter on either side of his legs.

"You wanted to be the one pressed into the bed instead of the one pressing."

Dean inhales suddenly when Cas moves his hand to his hips and squeezes just this side of pain.

"Yeah," he almost whispers it. Cas is staring at him with confidence.. like he knows what he's doing to him. Cas being bold was kind of intimidating. Nevermind, that he was the one touching the angel's lips only a few hours ago.

Dean swallows the lump in his throat. "What are you doing?"

"I could be one of your.. One night stands. I could educate you this time. If I am never to see you after this.. are you not curious how it would be between us?"

One night stands were supposed to be easy. What Cas was offering would be anything but that... Still, he couldn't help the memories that starting hitting him all of the sudden. A younger more naive Cas, stroking him fast and hard.

"That's.. probably a bad idea." Now tht the booze was mostly out of his system, he couldn't blame stupid decisions on it.

Cas tilts his head with some kind of knowledge in his eyes that he never used to have. "Probably."

He lets go of Dean to move back until he's leaning against the opposite counter.

"Well, I didn't say no."

"I know," he watches him steadily with the smallest twitch of his lips. It's kinda annoying actually.

"Look at you. So fucking sure of yourself."

"I'm not a fledgling anymore, Dean. And you are not a boy. Don't pretend you aren't excited by my proposal."

"Excited, sure. I mean sex is exciting. But it wouldn't be just like a wham bam thing. You and me.. It's complicated."

"It always was between us. But, if you'd prefer, I will leave and not mention it again."

"You just wanna bang, kill our bad guy then say adios?"

"Maybe then I could stop thinking about you," Cas says with that damn blank face.

Could they really just fuck once.. Do with Cas what he'd been doing for years just like anyone else. It started to become hard to think of reasons why not. He fucking wanted him. And Cas wanted him. All this pain and longing and shit.. maybe they could just do it and say we'll deal with the other part later. The pain of how it'll be harder. Fuck, live in the here and now, right? Cas was here and now. He watches him smile slowly and Dean feels it happening on his own face. They were both considering it. And liking the idea.

"Shit.. This is a stupid idea." Dean looks away because he feels excited. Twitchy, despite his words. He jumps off the counter and stretches, knowing Cas is watching, before turning towards the door. "You just need to go back to your tree house and I need a drink-"

Cas grabs him by the wrist as he passes and yanks him back so he's trapped between the counter and his body. He pushes out with both his forearms but Cas just shoves him right back to where he was and follows with his body. He presses close into Dean, letting him feel his desire and strength.

"This is what you wanted and you couldn't find," Cas says, low and gravelly from so near their noses almost touch.

Dean closes his eyes when Cas grips his jaw and turns his face away to start mouthing at his neck. Teasing. Coaxing. Hinting at what he was offering if Dean let it happen.

He holds onto Cas' hips, fingers digging into the leather and stares at the ceiling trying to think past his erection.

"I can give it to you," he murmurs in Dean's ear.

"Cas.." It's not a protest. He's already so past needing to be swayed as he moves his fingers lower to grab his ass and pull him closer.

Biting his earlobe, Cas grates out, "I'll press you into your bed and make you remember what made you want it in the first place."

Fuck if that didn't make him stand up and pay attention. Dean makes an embarrassingly loud groan in the back of his throat when Cas moves the fingers he'd been stroking the back of his neck with and twists them in his almost too short hair.

"That's not playing fair." He hisses when Cas grinds against his hardness.

"Are we playing, Dean?"

Cas kisses him, feverish and addictive while he starts pulling him backwards. Dean goes along willingly.

Just this once.. Just this once they could have each other. Maybe it'd be the last good thing he felt before his endgame fight. It'll be his final happy thought to focus on if it went badly.

Cas steers him backwards, kissing him thoroughly along the way to the bed. After he pushes the flannel off Dean's shoulders, he pulls at the bottom of his shirt, parting lips only a second to yank it over his head. Dean doesn't help since he seems to want to do the undressing but just holds his face to keep them close while he does.

Cas unbuttons Dean's jeans and he stumbles out of them while holding into his shoulders. They're broader than when he was 16, he briefly thinks.. then the backs of his knees hit the bed and he's pushed down to bounce a little. Cas pulls off his own shirt to reveal white scars crisscrossing in several places along his stomach and chest. Dean reaches out and touches one.

"What are these?"

Cas looks down like he just noticed them. He frowns then moves forward to catch Dean's lips. "Nothing," he whispers before pushing his tongue deep into his mouth to rub against his while putting a knee on the bed.

Dean breaks away. "They look like the jabs you got.."

When Dean doesn't let him reconnect, he huffs and agrees, "From that day."

He doesn't have to say more. Dean knows exactly what he's talking about.

"Why can't you heal them?"

He tries to kiss him again but Dean turns his head, so instead Cas kisses his neck while putting his other knee on the bed to basically hover above his lap. Dean automatically cups his ass and has to struggle not to let his weight push him backwards.

When Cas sucks at his neck, he bucks just a little. Shifting his weight to push Dean onto his back, Cas reaches down to unlace the cord and slide the leather pants down his angular hips. He leans forward to keep their lips connected while pulling his legs free. Dean starts pushes at his own jeans and boxers. Cas finishes helping him by impatiently yanking them the rest of the way down. He moves back over him and suddenly there's fever warm flesh touching every inch of him. Dean closes his eyes and makes a little moan in his throat when their more intimate spots touch.

Cas drops a hand between them and grips him firmly without hesitation. "I enjoy that noise you make."

Gasping, Dean asks, "What's it like? With a guy?" Absently, he strokes a hand down Cas' scarred chest, ruined like his back. It's probably gonna hurt. And be embarrassing. He's mainly talking because of nerves.

Cas looks off as if he's contemplating an actual answer."It's like.. flying. Remember the first time I carried you up into the clouds? You were scared.. I could feel your heart beating so fast." He kisses him and smiles. "How brave you must have been. We can fly together again. Trust me, Dean"

For a second, Dean's jaw tightens and he pulls his hand back from rubbing over pale scars. It's unfair but he suddenly can't stand the thought of someone else knowing Cas like he does. More than he does. Touching him just like he is right now. Knowing how his skin could warm you like a blanket and all those needy noises he made. And the thought of one of them touching his wings…

"Flying? Is that your line when you pick up guys?"

Confused, Cas lifts up onto his arms above him and squints. "I would never reveal my true nature to a human."

"You should. It worked for me. I bet you'd get all kinds of ass," he says bitterly. Where the hell was this coming from?

"What's wrong, Dean?"

"Nothin'." He looks away cause it feels awkward now for Cas to be on top of him.

"I'll leave." Cas offers, sitting back on his haunches without shame of his nakedness. Dean manages to resist covering his crotch but just barely.

"Why the fuck would you leave?"

"You don't want to do this. It's okay. I understand. Just because we can, does not mean we have to."

"What? No."

Dammit, he'd messed up their one chance by getting caught up in his own head. And now Cas was shifting back to get off the bed. Dean reaches up to encircle his back and pulls him forward. Off-balanced, Cas falls and catches himself on his hands before he lands on Dean.

He looks down with a slightly amused expression. "Yes, Dean?"

"Sorry for being a dick." He answers and slowly lifts up for a chaste kiss. Starting at the small of his back, Dean slides his hands upward until he finds the joint where his wings grow out of. He follows it up and under until he feels the oil he knows is there.

"So I'm the only one that's ever done this?" he asks huskily, while bunching his hands in deep patches of softness.

Cas cries out in surprise and drops his head. Their groins bump and it causes Dean's to twitch with renewed interest. "Yes," he pants and grips Dean's shoulder hard for support.

Dean pushes and rubs at the gland until a finger is wet and Cas is bruising his arm with how hard he's squeezing. He brings the digit to his mouth and licks it clean, feeling that familiar spark of energy. A sweet taste like strong honey coats his tongue and he innocently asks, "I'm the only one to taste you like this?"

Cas swallows twice before he can say, "I am beginning to regret allowing you to see how much that affects me." He tracks the movement of Dean's finger as he continues swiping it with his tongue and purposely pushing it deeper into his mouth. Dean smiles around the pad of his thumb. "Never show your weakspot."

"Are you going to hunt me?" Cas leans down to suck at his bottom lip that is a little shiny with oil now.

Dean chuckles against his mouth before saying, "Well if I ever have to take on an angel, I know right where to-"

Cas shoves him down onto his back so hard, his whole body bounces on the mattress. When Dean blinks, he's above him, forcing his shoulders down painfully hard into the soft surface. "Do not ever speak of touching another angel in this way."

Dean can't help smiling when he sees what brought out this threatening side of him. In the same way he hated the idea of someone touching Cas' wings.. so personally, intimately, Cas didn't want him getting cozy with one of his kind that way either. And because he's a shit, he can't help teasing a little.

"What way?" he asks coyly while reaches out to feel for the arched top of the wing. It's extended, almost straight up and out. Cas must have them completely open and high above him. Aggressive and hostile. Dean can imagine them and it turns him on even more. Cas' stone face hasn't soften one bit yet as he glares down at him.

Dean settles for tugging gently at lower ones, careful not to touch a sharp edge. "Like this?" Dean licks over his lip, keeping his hard gaze. "You wouldn't want me touching Billy Idol here?" He pulls and Cas looks like he might kill him.

"Or maybe that Trickster dick right.." he continues up to the source where that walnut-sized gland leaks. Pressing it firmly, he asks gruffly, "here?"

Cas' eyes flutter and he rocks his hips forward with a small grunt. Dean gasps softly too as they rub over one another between their bodies. Dean rubs it steadily, enjoying the wrecked noises Cas makes under his breath with his eyes closed, until his hand is coated. Cas gasps like Dean's sucking him off or something and if he wasn't getting hard as fuck, he'd continue. Instead, he brings his oil-covered hand down around his hip. Cas' eyes are rolled back when he grasped his cock and covers it with the viscous fluid so it's slick. His breathing hitches as he looks down between them and watches, strong fingers digging into Dean's arm.

"I do want this, Cas. Christ, do I want this. Want.. you."

"I sincerely hope so.." he winces on an upstroke. "Because after that, I'm not sure I have the strength to leave."

Dean grins and watches his hand glide over Cas, making him glisten. Cas lets him do it a few seconds more before grabbing his wrist. Then he moves his hand down past his own bobbing erection and lower.

He's confused for a moment, but then Cas surrounds his two first fingers with his hand and directs them to his opening. Dean flushes but lets himself be guided to push into his hole. It's embarrassing as hell and uncomfortable, but he tries to relax and focus on Cas' darkened eyes following his movements with too much interest. Just from him watching, Dean kinda gets more into it. Letting his eyes close, he pushes in deeper and deeper until he gets a rhythm going and tries to imagine it's the angel in front of him. He can hear Cas breathing a little unsteady while he pushes Dean's thighs wider. He holds under them with fingers biting into Dean's flesh at his show. It starts to feel really fucking awesome once he stops thinking about it so much and just goes with the good feelings. The few times he tried this by himself out of curiosity never really did anything for him. It always felt too weird. But knowing what his fingers were doing.. what they were making room for..

A foreign digit slides in next to his. Dean's eyes pop open to see Cas biting his lip, staring intently. His dick pulses once, untouched. Cas' arm shifts at the same time Dean feels his finger push in again.

After a minute, Cas pushes Dean's hand in and out like he's thrusting.

"Christ .." He breathes. He can't believe that he's getting off on this. That he kinda enjoyed it even as he felt vulnerable like this. Open. On display. "You gonna tease all day?" he asks gruffly.

Sounding calmer than he looks, Cas says, "This is necessary. I do not want to hurt you."

"Yeah well it's embarrassing as hell," Dean protests because he doesn't want to make anymore of those stupid noises over something like this. Jesus, if his dad could see him now. And that thought almost sweeps through his mind and brings everything to a halt if not for what Cas says next.

"Would you prefer if I used my mouth?"

Stilling his hand, he can only blink at that thought. "Uh.."

Cas smiles gently and moves to kiss him, withdrawing his finger and Dean's. "Perhaps later," he says, boldly with an unwavering dark look.

"Yeah.. " Dean swallows, just a little nervous along with the excitement because this was the moment.

Cas was above him, body slotted between his bent knees. He kisses Dean, hard and thorough. It's a distraction like he's a wilting virgin or some shit but he does kinda appreciate it. As Cas' tongue rubs hard, demanding his attention, he's also holding under his thigh, pulling his legs farther apart and sliding closer above his body. Not breaking their intense locked lips, he presses against his opening and pushes in.

Dean winces and turns his head away slightly from the kiss, panting as Cas continues to push further. He kisses around Dean's mouth. The corner, his chin, then moves to kiss and suck the skin of his neck.

"Are you alright?" He asks with a hoarse voice by his ear. He pulls out just a bit, waiting.

"Yeah.." Dean sighs raggedly eyes shut tight. "Yeah, don't stop." Because it had to get better, right? Cas biting and licking along his neck was definitely good even if the other parts were uncomfortable. He tries to focus on that like his life depended on it.

"I have no intention of stopping," he promises. The hand on his leg tightens and this time he steadily pushes deeper. Dean opens his eyes, just to roll them when Cas hits over that spot that makes his leg spasm and cock twitch. Another thrust and he hits it again making him sigh, "oh fuck..."

"Better?" he rumbles, surging forward as he asks.

Dean nods against Cas' scratchy cheek and he rubs it over him like an affectionate cat. With another quick rush forward, he makes his own happy noise as if now that Dean was enjoying it, he could too. The sound of feathers sweeping fast and shifting can be heard above them.

Unlike when he was with a girl, this was different than being the one in control, setting the pace. But god Cas was hot like this... driving into him and pushing him up the mattress with each thrust. They shift up the bed each time until his hands touch wood and he reaches back with one hand to hold on, the other bunching the sheet beside him.

Cas hasn't touched his dick, still trapped between them so it's a different kind of building. If he did touch himself right now, it would probably be over too soon. Pre-cum leaks steadily onto his stomach.

As the lunges become rhythmic and their moans and grunts less restrained, Cas reaches down and pulls Dean's hand free from where he's fisting the sheet. He bends his arm so it's next to his head then laces their fingers. Somehow it made it all feel even better. His fingers spasm between Cas' as he rests his forehead onto Dean's shoulder while bucking his hips in a frantic motion that makes him cry out.

Getting carried away, Cas scratches deeply over his left hip where he's fighting to grip him tight and hold in place. Dean hisses but it just adds and mixes with the rush of euphoria mounting.

"Sorry… I'm sorry," he pants.

"No, it's okay. Fuck it's so okay." Dean pushes back with his hips to push him deeper.

Even though he said it, Cas still seems to hold him gentler.

"You don't have to hold back, Cas."

"I do.. I could crush your bones right now if I lost myself. I didn't.. It's.. You're amazing, Dean. This is amazing," he stares down at him with half-lidded blue eyes.

Despite the way Dean's caught up in the slap of skin and Cas angular hip bones grinding into him, he has to say something to stop the look of awe he gives him. Like he's fucking precious or some other flowery word.

"So not insufficient?" He breathes out and closes his eyes on a groan.

Cas' pace falters a moment as he frowns down at him. He opens his mouth like he wants to say something but then just grips his face and kisses him hard and bruising. A little painful in its forcefulness with lips mashed into teeth.

Only when he needs to breathe, does Cas let up so Dean can gasp against his mouth. He slots a hand beneath his lower back to hold him up a bit with an impressive show of strength. Then Cas grabs his leg and drives into him, deeper still.

It's relentless but Dean doesn't feel the uncomfortable pressure anymore because he's rolling towards that amazing moment. He has one hand on Cas' hip, feeling it work and bunches his fingers there. The other he buries in the angel's sweaty mess of hair and grips hard. Cas' breathing hitches and he finally touches him, left hand encircling his cock tightly in smooth tugs while he quickens the cantering of his hips.

"Fuck, Cas!" Dean's mouth drops open as he feels his balls tighten and he crests over that peak. Cas holds him in place and rocks over that spot inside him while he works his dick.

Fireworks of pleasure shiver through him and he feels his stomach warm with the wet evidence.

After almost half a minute of shuddering through his orgasm, Cas waits until he opens his eyes and looks at him. Then he takes Dean's limp hand and laces their fingers again, pressing him down with all his weight. His thrust pick up speed and his breathing gets ragged. The motel lamp knocks over with the wild movements of a wing he can't see. Cas makes low wrecked cries and shuts his eyes only when he can't seem to keep them open anymore. Dean stares up at him to catch every quiver and intake of breath he makes.

Only a moment more and he clenches his jaw and shoves deep against him. Falling forward, he lays his forehead on Dean's cheek as he finishes inside him. There's one last gust of air that kicks up any stray papers lying on the table.

Heart still racing, Dean turns and kisses his temple weakly. He only hums faintly in response.

Papers slowly drift down around them.

"Holy Shit," Dean pants up at the ceiling.

"Are you okay?" Cas murmurs into his neck.

"Yeah just.. Holy Shit."

Cas lifts his head up as if examining his face. "Do you realize you already said that? Are you sure you're okay?"

Dean laughs, feeling better than he had in a long time. He cups Cas' neck and pulls him forward to kiss the frown right off his lips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So wow, that was a book, huh? I'm not sure if it's because this is a slow burn or what but oddly, I find myself nervous about posting this now that they've fully consummated their feelings. Let me know if you liked it.. I'm frequently overcome by attacks of doubt. Thanks as ever for your feedback. I love you all to bits. :)


	19. Scars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just a little longer. He'll get up soon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for neglecting you for so very long, my dear ones. Holiday mayhem and all.. it was very difficult to carve out any time to be productive. At least I left you at a good place? I hope you forgive me.

Breathing raggedly, Dean darts a glance towards the angel next to him and tries to wrap his head around what they just did. Cas actually chuckles a few times into the pillow before lifting his face up again to smile at Dean. His face is full of awe and other softer emotions Dean can't even name.

He needs to get up. Right now. Get up and go into the bathroom, shower and get dressed. He definitely shouldn't be laying here with Cas half on top of him… maybe even returning that stupid dopey look. The longer he gives into this, the harder it'll be.

Cas shifts onto his side and props his head up with one hand. He seems more like a big contented cat than a badass Angel of the Lord at the moment. His wide grin softens and he reaches out to stroke Dean's neck; first with fingertips, then following with his fingers and palm. It makes him tense but Cas doesn't seem to mind, just continues on up to trace Dean's jaw, over his Adam's apple, then down to the hollow of his throat.

With the endorphins fading, Dean starts feeling a little more self-conscious and while Cas seems preoccupied, he hikes the sheet just over his pelvis as casually as possible. Without looking down, Cas' lips twitch as he meets his eyes briefly before focusing back on... whatever the hell he's doing.

Eventually, his gaze shifts to Dean's naked chest and lower. Dean lets him look but wants to squirm. He touches the tattoo a little above his heart and follows its black lines.

"Keeps demons out. Occupational necessity," Dean says for something to break the silence.

Cas flicks his eyes up in acknowledgement but doesn't speak.

It makes him on edge. All this quiet inspection and delicate touches. It leaves him feeling exposed and antsy. Like he might start talking and not stop. He thinks about asking Cas if he knew that the one night stand thing was kinda bullshit. That he wasn't just like any other faceless body to forget about everything in for a while. Not quick or easy or a convenience… or just to find out what it was like to be with a guy. Maybe Cas would smile and say he knows. Or maybe he'd say there can't be anything else and get up. Either way, Dean can't make himself break the spell of Cas slowly tracing over his ribs.

Despite everything, this was kinda nice. Weird, but nice. Just to be laying here next to each other afterward. He thought maybe it'd be more awkward. And it is. But not exactly in the way he imagined. Not like he's searching for the words to be able jump up as every second ticks by. Crazily… it seems almost natural. Safe. Which was bullshit, he was never really safe. He learned that 6 years ago. But… if he let himself, he could forget all his baggage for a few minutes. Forget about what might happen tomorrow. Forget about all the hungry clawing things just outside the door. He could be here and now with Cas touching him too gently and curling warm against his side.

Just a little longer. He'll get up soon. Shower Cas off him and forget about this too.

And maybe he kinda wants to ask how he did. Or compared. Or some pathetic shit like that. Should he have done something else? Something more? Did it measure up to Cas' idea of what their one time would be? Was it worth it? Had Cas had a lot of sex with guys? One guy? One special person? Even if he never showed someone else his wings-

"You need to stop thinking so loudly if you do not want me to listen."

"You heard that?" Dean turns to him with a scowl.

"A little. Your thoughts are very distracting."

"Damnit, Cas! Not cool."

"Dean." He stops the progression of his fingertips for a minute to tighten them around his covered hip until Dean looks at him again. "Do you want me to answer?"

He makes a show of shrugging but Cas just raises an eyebrow until he says, "Whatever. If you want."

"You are not like any other to me. Please do not doubt that."

Despite his appearance of annoyance, Dean gets a shot of warmth at his words. Cas' eyes follow the hand he's dragging down Dean's sternum and when he meets his gaze again, they've darkened.

"And it was..." He pushes the sheet down steadily, not breaking eye contact. "Beyond what I imagined it even could be. And I have imagined it plenty."

Dean swallows and makes himself put a hand behind his head in an outward show of indifference of being so exposed. He'd just had sex with the guy. Why should being naked make him blush like damn virgin?

Without touching him south of the border, Cas tilts his head and asks, "And you?"

"Me what?"

Cas just stares at him and waits.

Rubbing the back of his neck, Dean gruffly asks, "Didn't you freaking hear it already?"

"I want you to tell me."

Dean hesitates only a moment before deciding on the easier route. Sighing exaggeratedly, he slaps on a smirk and says, "Better than pie."

Cas doesn't return the smile but averts his eyes to watch himself rub a bit of the sheet between his fingers. "You do not regret, then?"

"Hell no." Dean says without even having to think about it. Pushing aside the post-coital awkwardness, he ducks his head and catches Cas' lips. "Don't waste time on regret, man. Live in the here and now, right?"

When Cas' face pinches in a frown, Dean kisses him again because it's some kind of fucked up weakspot for him now. Cas frowning.

"Because we could be dead tomorrow," Dean pulls back to finish. Eyes fixed on his mouth, he moves closer but Cas puts out a firm hand to stop him, anger flashing across his features.

"Oh c'mon, will you stop? I was joking!" Dean sighs and drops back onto his back.

Cas doesn't answer for a long time and he doesn't look at him either, instead staring at the ceiling. He should really fucking get up already.

Just as he's about decided to, Dean feels those goddamn ghost touches again. Ticklish and slightly arousing all at once. He fights not to twitch. A few more minutes and he's either gonna kick Cas out of bed or try to fuck him again. He's never been body shy but quick drunken tumbles in the dark never ended with this amount of intense scrutiny and he can't take much more.

"I saw my sister today," Cas says out of nowhere.

Dean looks down at him. "Your sister? You mean the one you um… lost?"

That's how Cas had described her, never really explaining. Not Dead. Lost.

Idly, Cas makes a slow circle on his ribs. Whether a symbol or nothing mark, he's not sure, but it seems to have a particular pattern that keeps the angel's attention. It makes Dean notice that he isn't wearing that gaudy cuff thing that he always had on.

"Yes. I am breaking many rules these days," he smiles with a touch of bitterness to himself.

"Where's your…" he gestures to his own bicep.

"I removed it. Before."

Instantly, Dean feels his anger spark inside him. Cas took off his angelic trappings to roll around in the mud with a human. He remembered all the crap that asshole Uriel had been saying about Cas debasing himself…

"What like you're lowering yourself with me or some sh-"

"Because I didn't want a reminder that this would end."

Dean's face smoothes out and he sighs through his nose.

After a minute of neither of them saying anything and Cas not looking up at him, Dean says, "So tell me about her." He folds both hands behind his head.

"She's happy." Cas says it like a fact. Not quite smiling but without the sadness he remembered seeing when he had previously talked about her so many years ago.

"She lives as a human."

"How?" Dean frowns at that.

As if debating for a moment, Cas finally answers, "She... Fell."

Fell. Capital F.

"Fell? What like she's... a fallen angel? No wings, halo, the whole she-bang?"

Cas nods, watching his fingers on Dean's abdomen.

"Wow." Dean shakes his head, not really knowing why that took him off guard. "I mean, I didn't think you guys.. Could you do that?" He asks before he thinks and Cas' hand stills and flattens over his stomach.

After a long tense couple of seconds, he looks up at Dean. They just stare for a moment with it hanging between them.

"Sorry. I... uh didn't mean to ask that. It just sorta came out."

Taking a deep breath through his nose then out again, Cas goes back to his odd petting over his stomach but now with that blank face of his.

"It is considered a great disgrace. To abandon your holy duty, your brothers and sisters, the reason you were created."

Dean watches his mouth move, the harsh way he almost spits the words. He glares at him with hard, crystal blue eyes. "It is a selfish act, Dean. Not many have ever... done that."

He wants to ask if that's all he thinks he's good for. Being an angelic bitch boy... but who is he to ask that? Cas had been doing his own thing before Dean and would long after him. Besides he knew Cas wouldn't welcome it.

Not knowing what else to say, he reverts back to his childhood tactics of moving around the subject like it was a fire-ant mound. "Well at least you got to talk to her right?"

He's quiet, not even looking at Dean anymore. Staring at the wall across the room like he was seeing things Dean couldn't.

"Hey. You ok?"

Cas doesn't answer but moves his hand over the hollows of his hips then his thighs. Apparently sharing time was over.

Taking notice of any reactions, he starts that torturous caressing again but on the lower half of his body. Over the tops of his legs, down over his mostly flaccid cock, his inner thigh, making him twitch and smile in reflex. Knees, Calves and stretching down to circle his ankles then stroke the arches of his feet. By now, Cas has touched just about every inch of his body.

"What the hell are you doing?" Dean growls and flinches at a ticklish sensation.

"Learning about you. As you are now."

"God, you're weird," he laughs.

"You seem to respond to weird." Cas raises an eyebrow at his stiffening member. "Are you not therefore also 'weird'?"

Dean flushes and tries to cover himself. Catching the sheet, Cas pointedly flings it back so he's just as exposed and splays his fingers down Dean's inner thigh.

"Look, haven't you _learned_ enough yet? I think what we just did was pretty damn educational."

"No. I haven't," he says simply and moves up to touch Dean's lips with an index finger. Dean licks out over them nervously and Cas smiles small before his face smoothes again, dispassionately.

He slowly strokes down Dean's rough cheek, jaw, neck. Over his collar bone. Dean watches his descent as he lightly drags his nails over his nipple, then the other. Rubs it with his thumb and tugs.

"Cas... C'mon," he swallows; embarrassed it kinda turned him on.

He purposely does it a few more times while steadily watching him before continuing lower.

Dean fights to stay still and just watch while Cas follows the length of his dick with one finger to the slit and rubs pre-cum in a circle over his head. Okay, the odd petting thing was starting to get kinda hot.

"I thought- Fuck!" He gasps when Cas dips lower to palm his balls with his other hand. "I thought this was a one night stand."

Sitting up, Cas fixates on watching his fingers tighten over Dean's now completely hard erection.

"The night is not over."

He pumps once, twice and Dean chases the feeling with his hips.

Pausing, Cas calmly says, "But if you would rather sleep... I understand."

Dean glares at him but ruins it by grinning. Cas pulls up again and twists his hand, making him close his eyes. A second later, they fly open when he feels warmth surrounding his head.

Holy shit. He sucks in air even as Cas sucks hard once before pulling off him to ask, "Do you not like this? I could-"

"You could fucking do that again."

Cas licks out over him and sucks around his head once more. Dean sighs and bites his bottom lip, watching. If he thought too hard about the fact that this was an angel sucking him off… he'd blow right then and there. He grabs the pillow behind him crying out when Cas dives deep then back up. Reaching forward and grabbing his wrist, Cas directs it to the back of his neck.

Jesus, that was hot. Something he'd thought about more than once.  
He cups the back of his head and gently pulls him down on him. Cas moans deep around him and that makes his legs shake. He shifts his hips up a little, chasing the feeling of Cas throat closing around him.

Just as he's starting to breathe heavier, Cas pulls up and moves away. Lower. Kissing over his sack then his inner thighs and down his body.

"Goddamnit," Dean groans. He shivers while he waits for Cas to make his way back up. By the time he does, Dean is aching and vibrating with anticipation. For his mouth, hand, fuck anything, but he only offers brief kisses where he most wants before moving up his chest and higher.

"Cas... Seriously?" And it sounds too close to whining to be him.

He ignores Dean to continue nuzzling at his neck. "You are very impatient," he murmurs into his ear, fondly.

Trying to even the playing field a little, Dean blindly reaches around his back towards all those gorgeous black feathers but his arm is clasped tight and forced down onto the mattress. He immediately tries with the other, but Cas catches that wrist too and holds him down. He squeezes both wrists, and kisses his jaw line while keeping him in place.

Dean growls like a frustrated dog and bucks upwards, trying for friction. Inhaling too quick, Cas only shifts a little higher above Dean so he can't really touch. He comes close to looking smug, watching Dean writhe in desperation, rapidly turning to anger.

Cas has him on strength but he knows how to get out of this hold. Fighting for your life and you learn a few things.

Dean encircles his waist with his legs and pushes up to off-balance him. Surprising Cas into tipping, they roll and fall off the bed. Cas lands with a grunt onto his back with Dean splayed across him.

They both pant, Cas still gripping his wrists painfully. "You ok?" Dean asks, but smirks with pride.

When Cas lets him go and struggles to get upright as Dean shifts back to get off him and sit on the floor. His very annoyed looking angel gives him a stern look and does a shiver movement with his upper body.

Suspecting he knew what that might be, Dean reaches forward to caress his back and doesn't feel the wing bone or feathers.

"Are you gonna take your ball and go home now?" He says in response to Cas' version of pouting.

"I don't understand that but I should leave." Cas says, looking damn close to coy. He was betting that was a threat he wouldn't deliver on.

Dean crawls forward, feeling braver than he had a few moments ago, and practically sits in Cas' lap so he's thighs encase his legs. They're both hard now but not touching since Dean's too far back but Cas' lips twitch up and his voice seems extra gravelly as he asks, "What are you doing, now?"

When Dean reaches out, Cas grabs his wrist again with a raised eyebrow and knowing smile.

"No fair. You got your little pervy tour of my body. I want..." he stumbles over what exactly he wanted but Cas only slackens his hold and cocks his head. Finally he nods and answers, "I suppose that is reasonable."

He props his arms behind him, palms down and leans back a little. He manages to make even that look graceful. Dean reaches out again with a hand and skims along each roughened edge of puckered flesh on his chest and thumbs a shiny white line down his side. He remembered it gaping and spilling out white light and blood. Each imperfection, he has a memory of long ago when he thought Cas might be dying. When he himself was actually dying.

"So what's up with these? Really." Dean says, trying for his own blank face when he meets Cas' eyes.

He holds his gaze for too long but Dean doesn't break away. Finally he answers quietly, "They are in honor of your mother." Dean's fingers still. Cas only continues to stare at him with those intense blue marbles of his and eventually adds, "And because that was the day I lost you."

Dean's mouth falls open a little at that. "Cas…" he starts but he has no idea what the rest of that sentence was going to be.

When Dean doesn't say anything for too long and it begins to feel more than slightly awkward to be sitting there on his lap, Cas asks without looking at him, "Are you done? I should actually leave."

Dean shakes himself. He puts more tease into his voice than he felt since truthfully his emotions were suddenly all over the place. But he knew how to focus them. "Nope. Just a minute more. Fair's fair."

Cas turns back slowly while Dean smoothes his palms up his muscled torso, over nipples and then his shoulders and neck.

"Can you have them out like this?"

He hasn't moved to feel for them again but Cas knows exactly what he's talking about. They're not far from the bed so he couldn't imagine Cas could stretch them out in this position. With another head tilt, Dean feels that tickle along his arm that at first makes him want to scratch the spot. He looks at his arm, then back at Cas who twitches his lips but otherwise remains stoic.

Dean grins but doesn't go for it. He'd be expecting that. Instead he shoves his fingers into Cas hair and tugs lightly and bends his head a little, loving his intake of breath. Then he starts the path down. Slow. Just like Cas did. Cas who stares right into his eyes now as Dean goes lower and lower. Over his abs and down to the juncture where he's already stiff between them. Without looking down, Dean cups him there in both hands but only moves them over him on the path straight back up away from that place that made Cas blink a little too long and leg muscles tighten beneath him.

He puts on a good show, but he definitely feels it. The damned robot look of his can't disguise the little tells Dean knows to look for.

The next pass up and his nipples are stiff, so he rubs the heels of his palms over them, just a few seconds longer, then up over his shoulders and into his hair once more.

And then back down again.

By the fourth time up, Cas' mouth parts and his head lolls easily in Dean's fingers when he burrows them into his messy hair. Yanking a little harder.

"Dean…" he wets his lips now when Dean turns his hand so his fingertips pass over Cas' balls before skipping along his hard cock. Steadily, Dean's been able to feel more and more of Cas' feathers around his arms, shoulders, then back. Like he's encircling him and it's egging him on. Feeling them all around him. Little soft touches brushing all over.

"Yeah, Cas?" he says innocently, even though he's throbbing just a few inches away from him and really wanting nothing more than to grab them both in one hand and finish it with hard and fast dirty strokes. But Cas isn't the only one who can show some restraint. Making him uncomfortable and breaking that wall he puts up was damn good fun.

"This is not a proportionate response." He gasps with his eyes shut for a second.

"I don't know whatcha mean. I'm only... what was it? _Learning_ about you."

Cas' jaw locks and he glares at him but it's mixed with hunger and Dean actually tightens his hand around his dick for the first time… only for a second... before letting him go to move up again. His angel actually makes something close to the inarticulate groaning he had earlier when Dean keeps his hands on Cas' shoulders.

"Dean!" he growls then moves his face forward to only an inch or two away. "You are exhausting my patience."

"Right..." Dean lifts one hand off his shoulder to snap his fingers like he just remembered. "You gotta go. I'll make this quick then."

Before he can even frown at him, Dean reaches back over shoulders, slides up the bone and back up to that spot that leaves his fingers wet and Cas practically whimpering next to his ear. His own hands come up and tighten around Dean's lower back, pressing their groins together. When Dean pushes the wing gland with firm fingers and mouths at his neck, Cas slides his hands over Dean's ass, one bunching over a cheek roughly, the other slipping between to rub his hole.

Oddly, it feels fucking fantastic and Dean makes his own desperate noise, rubbing in a small circle until both hands are slick and Cas' sweet smell is making his nose twitch and dick jump. He enjoys grinding against his angel's cock for maybe a minute, Cas probing more firmly and shit why is that getting him even hotter? Then he abruptly shifts back to separate them as they were before.

Cas swallows and pants a little, eyes looking dazed and wrecked. Jesus that made him want to just come all over his stomach right then and there. His hand is still around Dean's ass but just holding him now.

Taking a shaky breath so he can think, Dean kisses and bites on his neck and murmurs, "You sure you have to go?"

He moves back to see Cas wet his lips and blink. "What?"

Dean's smile gets wider and he brings up his wet hand to paint Cas' bottom lip with oil and leans forward to eat and suck along it. When he pulls back, Cas is breathing harsh and his eyes are losing blue.

"It's cool..." Dean licks his own mouth clean, messily. Sticks his thumb into his cheek to suck the sweetness off it as lewdly as possible. Cas shuts his eyes tight like he's in pain just from the sight. Dean waits until he opens them again, then does what he's betting will push him over the edge.

Fisting his own cock with the oil-covered hand, he tugs once. It's so warm. Warm like KY but so much better. "Fuck…" Dean closes his own eyes and grunts, letting his mouth fall open and dropping his head back a little. When he opens them again, he licks over his mouth once, moving back before Cas can connect their lips, and gives him a mockingly empathic look.

"I mean, I get it," Dean huffs, picking up speed and rocking a little over Cas' legs. "If you gotta go.." he moans deep up at the ceiling and fucks harder into his hand. "uhh..you-you gotta-"

He's knocked backwards so hard, the airs forced out of him. Cas' covers his body, grinds against him while rubbing his lips over Dean's mouth in this frenzy that can hardly be called kissing. Dean pants and pushes on his chest to get air, but Cas grabs his forearms and smacks them down hard onto the floor next to him and goes back to his aggressive biting and licking.

His dick rubs along Dean's slick one, sliding and feeling awesome with sparks of friction and pressure. Cas licks and sucks along his lips, gasping into his mouth and stealing his air. He reaches between them, hand encircling both of them like Dean imagined doing. After twisting his hand down over both of them a few rough times, he moves his hips down and away.

Before Dean can take a breath to protest, Cas is shoving steadily inside him, slick from rubbing with Dean.

"Ahhh, fuck... Cas.." he sighs and feels himself adjusting a hell of a lot quicker this time. He freaking had to, because Cas wasn't letting up. "A little goddamn warning next tim- Uuugh.." he gasps deep and it cuts off whatever the hell he was about to say.

"Dean... " Cas rolls his eyes back from above him and rubs his face along Dean's like he would crawl inside him if he could. His arms come up from underneath his shoulders and he pulls him down towards his lower body, even as he rams upwards. Hard, unyielding, they scoot against the threadbare motel carpet and burn scrapes along Dean's back.

Dean fists one hand in his hair, one in his wings. He was already so damn close, after just jerking himself. Cas' hips rubs against his with ever hitch forward and Dean starts mumbling things he can't even stop to think about. "Christ, you're so fucking beautiful, Cas. Like- like this wild creature or some shit." He groans while Cas kisses along his neck, open and messy with teeth catching skin. Shoving into him, harder and quicker. "Something to be in fucking awe of and- fuck, you're just- " he cuts off, shutting his eyes tight and feeling himself climb to that point of no return without even touching his dick. "Jesus, I'm almost there, Cas. Fuck.. just from this.. you gonna come too?" Dean sucks in air between his teeth. "Come- come with me? Fly and all that-"

So close.

He grips Cas' face next to his shoulder and turns his head to make him look at him. Eyebrows pinched like he's in pain, gazing down with a dark and wrecked expression. His lips pink, puffy and fuck- Dean stares at him as long as he can and lifts his hips off the floor as his dick starts pulsing and spurting cum.

When Dean loses focus and lets him go, Cas immediately grips his face and keeps him there, closing his eyes briefly as he pushes in once more hard and deep to start pulsing inside him.

From a gasp away, they breathe hard against each other's opened lips and stare glassy eyed at one another as they each shiver and release.

Cas is the first one to come back to himself, kissing lightly over Dean's mouth and rubbing his nose along his cheek. "If you wanted me to stay longer, Dean, you need only have asked."

Dean huffs out a laugh.

After staying tangled together for a few minutes, Dean almost drifts off but jerks awake before he can. Groaning, he rubs his face. "God, I feel like I could pass out for a week."

"Sleep then."

"I... uh, definitely need a shower."

Cas just shifts onto his back, freeing Dean to move. He doesn't give any indication that he's going so Dean just gets up without another word. Cas can probably squeaky himself clean and he wasn't ready for guy on guy shower bonding time at the moment, so he wasn't offering for him to join. This thing was going farther than he thought it would already.

More than uncomfortable about the soreness he was feeling in a certain area, he goes into the bathroom without a backwards look.

When he gets out, Dean's a little surprised that Cas is still there. Laying just where he'd left him. Were they going to sleep together? That would be... something else. He didn't know if he could sleep with someone else next to him. Even if it was Cas.

"You... stayin'?" He towels off his hair, wearing boxer shorts.

"I will leave. I wanted to see what it would be like to lay next to you while you slept. I imagined that many times in the last few years."

"Those were your fantasies?" He wants to mock but it's too near a sore spot. He could try… just this once. "Yeah, I mean if you have time."

Dean lies on his stomach next to him like he always sleeps without thinking about it until Cas touches his back. Then follows a line... oh. Dean immediately pushes up and shifts onto his side.

"Education hour's over."

"Are you ashamed of them?"

"I know they're kind of a freak show."

"No. You are beautiful. As you always were."

"Stop it," Dean grits out through clenched teeth.

Cas seems confused.

"They're not beautiful so don't feed me that shit. I know what I look like."

"Dean." He tilts his head as if evaluating Dean's tense posture and building anger, then makes him falter by asking, "Are you repulsed by my scars?"

He didn't know how to answer that. He wasn't. Cas was fucking gorgeous and his scars just added to him. How could he hate what Cas kept by choice... and what he said about them. If anything it made him love- he stops that thought right there.

"Dean?"

"Of course not."

"They are meaningful to you, as mine are to me. Why would I not think you were beautiful?" Dean snorts and slumps back down. "You don't believe me?"

"Sunsets are beautiful. Chevy's and snowflakes and freaking mountains are beautiful, Cas. I know it when I see it."

Dean almost adds him, because Cas, an angel, was true beauty. He's pretty sure he babbled something like that earlier but now that sounds sappy and he'd about run out of that for one day.

Cas sighs and strokes his back. Dean frowns over his shoulder when he feels a momentary warmth chase along it.

"You had burns on your back. From the floor."

When it's apparent Cas is letting it drop, Dean feels less threatened and waggles his eyebrows. "Sexy rug burns, huh?"

"Go to sleep, Dean."

Surprisingly, after only a few minutes, he does. The last thing he feels is Cas still making smooth, long passes down his spine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope this made up a bit for your wait. I will endeavor for more story progression next chapter. (o:`,


	20. Prophecy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What's some dead prophet know about him anyway?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so so much for my feedback, darlings. I can not tell you how much I enjoy reading your thoughts after a chapter. I'm halfway done writing the next one so it shouldn't be too long until I update again. Love you all to bits!
> 
> Special Thanks to [MidnightFoxSinger](http://midnightfoxsinger.tumblr.com) for taking a look at this chapter for me and editing through it a bit. Thanks, Lovey!

Dean opens his eyes and stares into the dark. He doesn't know what woke him up but something has him on edge. It's completely dark for one thing. He vaguely remembers that Cas knocked over and killed the lamp earlier but still... there should be moonlight through the blinds... or something...

"Cas?" he calls softly to his left.

He can feel him lying next to him, quiet… and Cas didn't sleep.

"Cas?!" Dean barks a little louder, feeling the sense of unease increase. He finally grunts rolls over.

"Ya know, if you keep calling me by another angel's name, I'm gonna kick you outta bed."

Dean jerks up and falls backwards off the bed onto his ass. He hears a snap and the lamp, that he knows is busted, switches on from where it's sitting innocently on the bedside table.

That trickster bastard, Gabriel, is lying there in a red and blue striped men's pajama set like he hopped out of a 1950s movie, slippers and all.

"Didn't break that noggin did ya big guy?" He folds his hands behind his head and grins that smug fucking grin. "If you didn't want to cuddle, all you had to do was say so."

Dean roughly yanks the sheet off the bed and wraps it around his waist, haphazardly. "What the fuck are you doin' here? And what'd you do with Cas?"

"Castiel?" Gabriel sits up on his elbows. "He's here? Or... there? Wait, did you just.." He scrunches his face pointing from Dean to the bed.

Apparently his new shade of beet red is answer enough.

"Ewww." Gabriel shivers exaggeratedly with a sound of feathers rustling and hops up out of the bed. "Too close for comfort."

Dean rounds the bed to confront Cas' brother.

"What the hell is going on? If you fucking hurt him-"

"Chill, He-man. He's back where you left him. You're dreaming."

Dean stops and frowns, considering. "You're doing the dream walk thing right now? Like that asshole, Uriel?"

"Yep." Gabriel hops up on the bed-rail at the end of the bed and perches like a gargoyle. Like Cas used to in his old bedroom. Though admittedly, it looks 20 times weirder in Gabriel's get-up.

"So… why?"

"Convo Time, Dean-a-reen-o."

Dean sighs. Loudly. He doesn't know of a way to kill this dick and the only weak spot he knew was Cas' weak spot.. and no matter how he joked, there was no way in hell he was touching Gabriel there. Thinking of that, he gets a flash of Cas writhing under him with his fingers wet and slick, buried in his feathers…

"Whoa… you and him are kinda kinky, huh?"

"Dude!" Dean growls. "No mind-reading!"

Gabriel puts his palms up in a sign of surrender and Dean resigns himself to sitting back on the bed up near the pillows. He puts a pillow on top of his lap for good measure.

"Comfy?"

"Just get this over with."

"No sense of foreplay. Poor Cas. Or is it the other way around? Don't answer that."

Dean closes his eyes and feels his jaw tick.

"Has he told you about Anael?"

He's about to say no but thinks for a second. "That his sister?"

Gabriel just stares at him.

"Just that she fell." Dean stopped just short of saying that Cas had said she was happy or that he'd visited her. He'd picked up along the way that it was a big no no to go popping in on one's fallen relatives.

Gabriel's face darks a little and he feathers ruffle again like he's settling. "Alright so story time, Kiddo. Let me tell you about Anna."

He opens his mouth then closes it and looks up at the ceiling like he's thinking. "Strike that. Better let me tell you about Cas."

Grunting, Dean says, "I know about Cas."

"Do you?" Gabriel stands straight up and walks along the thin rod frame that shouldn't be able to support his weight. "So I suppose you know he killed a certain demon that liked to hide out in cute little blonde girls?"

Dean sits up and tenses. "Lilith?!"

Gabriel just continues walking back and forth like he's pacing along the bed rail. "And of course you know he got you that fancy shmancy knife you're so proud of?"

"What?! But you-" He thinks back to how he supposedly killed him as the Trickster. "That was Cas? Cas put you up to that?"

"Yeah so you don't know much, huh Babycakes?"

Dean grits his teeth, wishing he had that knife right now to threaten this asshole with. It'd be something instead of having to sit here with basically only his dick in his hand to wait while Gabriel smirked at him. He was enjoying this. Dean didn't know what to think. Cas had killed Lilith. Cas had given him the weapon that saved his skin more times than he could count.

"Or best yet… why he isn't a fledgling right now?"

Gabriel's snide voice pulls him out of darker thoughts, Lilith cutting into his ankle that night. Dean shakes his head and asks, "What does that mean?"

Gabriel grins at him with a raised eyebrow until he yells, "Stop with the freaking foreplay already! Tell me what you came here to tell me, goddammit!"

Instead of making a sex joke like he expected, the angel seems serious in a way he hadn't seen before. Sadder.

"I'm only telling you this because when it ends… I'm the one that'll be here to pick him back up. After you're dust and bones, I'll comfort him when he's still mourning you."

Dean swallows and tries to relax even though his entire body was on edge.

"She used to call him Cas too, ya know. He was always kinda out of place. Even from the start, always asking 'why' when good little fledglings are supposed to say 'How may I serve?' Pissed Naomi off more times than-" Gabriel cuts off his snickering to say, "Let's just say it didn't make him the popular kid on the playground. Then little Anna found him and didn't mind his questions. She had questions too and they were too weird peas in a pod."

He shakes his head and smiles remembering. Dean knows the bad part has to be coming. After a long minute he continues like he never paused. "So she matures first… she's allowed to mingle with the hairless apes. And she does. For longer and longer. Until one day she stands at the edge of Heaven…" Gabriel face is smiling but it's dark, ugly. "..And we're holding Castiel back.. and she swan dives right into humanity."

After a moment of silence, where the gravity of that moment sinks in, Gabriel continues.

"See after Anna leaves.. pretty euphemism for falling… She's off the map. Sayonara, Sister. We act as if she never existed but for poor Cas… well he lost the second pea to his weird pod."

"Geez." Dean winces, envisioning Cas having to watch that.

"Yep." Gabriel makes the word pop. "But it's her choice. So one moment baby bro is hovering on the edge of adulthood then... nothing. Just like that. He loses the will. Sits for decades, just staring at the edge of Heaven like Anna will fly on back up one day."

"What happened?"

"Well, I always had a soft spot for our little Castiel. I end up nagging Michael to let him come down with me a few times. Take a look around. See the sights. Give humanity a little look-see." Gabriel crouches down again in his gargoyle position. "Really I think it was the chance to see Anna again that made him agree."

"You knew he'd go find her and you were… cool with that?"

Gabriel raises one eyebrow and tilts his head. "He's my brother."

That stark statement made Dean respect this guy just a little bit more. Disobeying the rules and all the bullshit their way of life is built on because he cared for Cas. He could understand doing anything for a brother.

"Anyhoo," Gabriel claps. "Fast forward. He stays with us down here. He trains hard, goes a few rounds with the other side, and he's even allowed to observe as long as he doesn't interfere.

"But Cas came-"

"Yeah you know this part, huh? Our Cas doesn't just observe does he?" Gabriel squints at him and he locks his jaw so he doesn't squirm under the weight of those ancient eyes. "See but we didn't know that yet. All's we know is that one day he comes back and does this funny thing."

"Yeah? What's that?" Dean says as neutral as possible.

"He smiles."

Dean blinks.

"Yeah you may not get how big a deal that was but for him… then…"

Dean thinks back to the way Cas always had the weird blank face when he first met him. It made him look even more apart from humanity. He remembered knowing right away something was different about him.

"So of course being the responsible, caring brothers me and Balthazar are, we tail him one day. You'll never guess where he went."

Dean shrugs.

"The cutest little three story you'd ever seen."

"What, my house?"

"Bingo. He disappears inside for hours, and then comes back to us like nothing happened."

Dean looks away trying not to blush. He'd remembered one particular time when him and Cas had been very out in the open with their groping…fuck stop thinking about it!

"Yeah we saw you humping against the tree."

"Fucking seriously!" Dean closes his eyes and lets his head fall back. Angelic fucking Pervs.

"Relax. No matter how much Balthazar wanted to stay, we left when it was apparent how…" he stops to chuckle, "close you two were."

Dean sighs through his nose and resigns to be the color of a tomato for the entirety of this visit.

"So naturally, we needle him about it until he admits he _befriended_ a human. Right about the time Balthazar was making pretty colorful hand gestures; Uncle Uriel pops up and crashes the party."

"Wait, Chuckles roughed me up in that dream way before the uh tree thing."

"Getting to that. Apparently, he already knew about Cas' nightly excursions. Michael too. They'd had their own little pow wow with Cas and told him to leave you the fuck alone... paraphrasing of course. So you can imagine the shit storm we had to endure when he realized Cas was still going out of bounds for his favorite guilty pleasure."

"And he got in trouble because of me. Again." Dean frowns. Hating this story.

"Let's just say he was told to get in line. After that they kept him busy and his visitor's pass was revoked. No more humans. They were worried Cas might be high risk for… well you know."

"Cas wouldn't have done that. You shoulda heard him talk about it… like it was some awful disgrace."

Gabriel stretches, pointing his toes then slumps down again, "Love makes fools of us all, Dean-o."

Dean scrunches his face at that thought. The glib way Gabriel threw it out there, it was obvious he meant it as a joke. But still it distracted him into almost missing the next part.

"They trained him hard after that, kept a close eye on him but I still knew he'd slip away eventually. That's when he started changing."

"You mean…"

"The signs were there. Who woulda thought some teen America reject could be the cure."

Dean sits ups straighter. "What are you saying?"

"He was stunted, Dean-o. Wasn't moving forward and didn't give a shit about it. He might never have grown into his feathers... except he found some corn-fed Kansas boy to go get doey-eyed over." Gabriel waggles his finger at him. "You let him move on."

Dean's head hurts just thinking that their innocent angst-ridden fumbling around when he was 16 could have had that effect on an angel. "What do you want from me?"

"I'm just telling you this so you know. Losing Anna, then you…it did a number on him."

"What am I supposed to do?"

Locking his jaw, Gabriel cocks his head and gives him a hard look. "Well I was going to suggest leaving him the fuck alone but that ship has sailed, huh?"

Dean stares at the sheet fisted in his hand and thinks hard about the shit-ton of info Gabe just dumped on him. How lonely Cas had to be after his sister decided to slum it with the apes and how he might have had a part in helping him move on.

"Just try not to screw him up any more than you already did, Barbie."

Without looking at him, Dean tiredly whispers, "I said not to call me-"

SNAP!

Dean jerks away and sits straight up. It's dark again but not pitch-black like the first time. He turns to his left quickly.

"Cas!"

But the beds empty.

+++ +++ +++ +++ +++

Castiel does as expected.

He went on his patrol, watched over an exorcism and returned to report as he was supposed to. The area in which they were responsible, seemed curiously quiet of demonic presence, but he doesn't think on it long. Michael listened, nodding solemnly while he spoke and seemed softer as he dismissed him. His brothers gave him room as he passed, most likely thinking he was still brooding over the human he was banned from. Secretly, he was fighting very hard not to break out into a full grin. He'd only left Dean a few short hours ago and his mind replayed every detail.

Surely they could see the difference in him? This odd new feeling of completeness must be radiating. It set his feathers twitching on end and warmth swelling behind his sternum. But no. Apparently, he managed to remain outwardly devoid of emotion.

As soon as he was able, he left their presence and kicked off into the air, letting his exuberance loose as he swooped and gave into the winds pushing against his feathers. All too easily, memories of Dean raking his fingers through them had him responding against his will. Mid-flight as he pushed higher and higher, flashes of the previous night would hit him. Dean tracing his scars, touching the intimate spot under his wing that no other had, or the sound he made when Castiel had taken him in his mouth. He wishes they could have repeated the night over and over until he learned all of Dean's special noises… but it was done.

He had to remind himself of that fact several times already but inevitably he would be drawn back to softer thoughts. Or of Dean's thoughts the previous night. It was an invasion but he couldn't stop if he wanted to. He had needed to know what Dean felt. Just at that moment when he had never felt more vulnerable. Dean had carelessly asked if it was insufficient, teasing him in his way… but to Castiel, it had been everything. And selfishly, he needed to know if it had been everything for him too or even close. Instead, he only heard Dean's doubts, swirling within his head.

He met Uriel at their nest after his last patrol, reported no altercations besides the earlier demon that a human priest had been successful in banishing, then he left as soon as possible. Uriel had been squinting at him in distrust and if he lingered, he would betray himself. But he was free once more… perhaps he would go back to Dean. Just to see him again, he wouldn't let Dean know he was there. Just for a few moments. Or perhaps only go in to ask how he was feeling. Just talk for a short while. Would it be appropriate to kiss him again in greeting? Most likely not. But humans kissed each other for all manner of reasons. Surely, it would be acceptable to- maybe he should wait and see how Dean receives him.

As Castiel emerges from the tree disguising their nest, his brother's voice startles him.

"Hey, Bro!"

He spins and sees Gabriel rounding the other side of the tree. "Hello." He offers a small smile and keeps walking, hoping to take off quickly. Gabriel knew him better than the rest. He would-

"Going back to your boy toy?"

Castiel stops walking away, feeling himself flush. He stares ahead.

"You know what you're doing?"

He turns and sees the weariness along with his brother's ever present sly smile.

"Not particularly," Castiel admits, realizing he had fully intended to go right back to the human he wouldn't see again after the next few days.

Gabriel shakes his head. "Well Crowley meet tonight. Maybe give Dean-o some sleep before, huh? I'm sure you wore him out."

Castiel frowns, knowing better to ask how he knew. Instead he tries, "I wasn't going to him. It was just once."

Gabriel grabs his arm as he braces to take off. "Don't play a player."

After staring at one another for a moment, Castiel looks away and asks, "Are you going to tell them?"

He releases his arm and sighs. "You're an idiot sometimes." When he just seems confused, Gabriel clarifies. "No."

That's good. At least. His heart still hammered at the knowledge that Gabriel knew and that they were talking about it openly this close to the ones that could ruin it so easily. Inside their nest, they wouldn't be able to hear the words, but still it made his stomach turn.

"He'll be gone soon." Castiel says the words evenly and he's glad for that.

"I know that. Do you?"

Feeling a pang at the thought of Dean leaving, he can't calmly stand here and discuss it any further. He pushes off the ground and away from this talk without answering.

Dean is reading through an old book. Talking on his phone. Eating greasy food from a container. Castiel smiles as he watches. It feels just like all those years he spent doing this. As if Dean never forced him to appear a few days ago. As if they didn't spend the night together. As if he didn't know what it felt like to lie next to him as he slept.

Would this be his future? Standing outside a window all of this man's life until one day he didn't react quickly enough or was too old continue? What other choice did he have?

He hadn't let himself think about it once since Dean had asked it last night. Not once… But watching Dean close his eyes and rub his temples, he thinks about it now. Falling. Could he fall? Like Anna before him. Abandon the purpose given to him by a father he'd never met. Let himself become frail and old, even die. But Dean would be there too... if he would have him. He would age along with Dean. Possibly become a Hunter. Shoot human weapons. No. He would fare better with his sword. He'd sleep in temporary residences, sit in Dean's car for hours, travel only by his feet, eat burgers like the one Dean left him once…

Stop This! He needed to stop this useless fantasizing. He wouldn't entertain those thoughts again. They were dangerous and painful and pointless.

He left soon after before he gave into the temptation of letting Dean see him.

+++ +++ +++ +++ +++

Dean, for his part, had spent the majority of the day on the phone with Bobby and any hunters in or around Nevada trying to pin-point where his dad had last landed. Apparently, there'd been no word or sign of John Winchester after he hit the state line. Dean had taken to calling the local sheriffs of every town in the state, seeing if maybe he'd been picked up under an alias and was still in processing. As far as they could tell he wasn't in the FBI's system or in any hospital either. Finally, he called on a few other sketchier sources but couldn't get a hit. It was a long and frustrating process that ended with no pay off.

In the moments in between, amongst the growing dread and white noise, his mind would always drift to Cas. Soft memories of fever-hot skin, a wet mouth, dark blue eyes, hands touching-

He had to focus. Focus. Focus. Focus. Crowley meet up was tonight. He had to try and figure out a way to get Charlie's soul back and still get the info about Alastair. Who knew how it would go down with that slimy prick.

He hangs up the phone again after another dead end and rubs his temples. He had a bitch of a headache.

And just like that, he was back to thinking about Cas. Or more like all the crap Gabriel had unloaded on him in that dream. The rest of the night he'd laid awake trying to think back to times when he felt like someone was watching him. Imagining Cas just out of sight. He'd killed Lilith. And helped him by getting him the knife. And he was almost sure now Cas had saved him several times. Like once when a werewolf suddenly stopped chasing him… just disappeared behind him. Or when the dust cleared after a big fight, there had been less bodies than he knew there were bad guys when they'd attacked.

The longer the day wore on, the more he couldn't wait to see him. Grew hungrier for him. It helped him push down all the worry over his missing dad or what would happen tomorrow. After getting a glimpse of the how much he'd affected Cas… well he wanted to see him very much.

Dean takes a shower to relieve the tension. Jerking off thinking of the previous night. Feeling aches and sore in new places as evidence. Cas sucking him, touching him everywhere, holding him in place as he pushed into him just like Dean had done with too many women to count.

Only after he finishes, puffing out a breathe to steady his heartbeat, does he think about Cas telling him he was beautiful. Stupid really. He's supposed to be a hard as nails, swearing, drinking, womanizing hunter… but an angel stroking his scars and calling him that had him staring at the bathroom tiles until the water turned cold.

That night, it's almost 10 and he still hasn't shown up. The angels never gave him a time when they'd show. He's fully dressed, gun under the pillow as he drifts in and out of consciousness waiting for Cas to come. He imagined sometime before twelve. Why'd it have to be freaking midnight? It made Dean uneasy. Lotta bad shit went down around midnight. They didn't call it the "witching hour" for nothing.

Since he hadn't been able to sleep after Gabe's dream and before that he was getting biblical with an angel, he can't quite help just resting his eyes a bit.

He dreams of warm skin rubbing along his. Hands grabbing his hips, tugging him closer. Teeth and tongue and lips… then it morphs into when he was younger. Cas was younger too. Dean's sucking his neck against a tree and getting turned on. He has to remember not to be. This is wrong. This is wrong. Cas turns them and presses him into the bark this time. Showing him what he learned. This is wrong. Cas shifts against him and he feels sparks of pleasure in his jeans. This is wrong. Cas pants and sounds unsure and Dean's telling him it's okay. He lets it happen and god it's happening but fuck, this is wrong...

"Dean."

He jerks violently awake, reaching for his gun until a strong hand grabs his arm.

"Dean! Stop." Cas takes hold of his other arm and holds him down until he blinks and realizes where he is. Who he's with.

Cas still hasn't let him go but tilts his head. They're close. He's here. Finally.

"Are you okay? I came to-"

Dean surges up to ram their mouths together, twisting his head to rub their lips. Still holding him down, Cas' hands spasm then loosen as he cautiously returns the kiss. As soon as Cas starts pulling away to sit back, Dean follows and grabs his face, getting on his knees.

Cas turns his head and gasps so Dean follows his jaw to that sweet spot on his neck and bites him, getting a little spark along his tongue and he chases the feeling.

Breath stuttering, Cas asks, "What are you doing?"

Mouthing over his throat and cupping the back of his neck to keep him in place, Dean smiles into his skin. "Marking." He licks and sucks harder while Cas makes a small, deep moan. "You remember marking, right?"

His fingers tighten on Dean's arms but he doesn't push him away.

"Dean. We-we can't..."

"Don't even tell me you don't want this." He pants into his warm neck. "I know you want to. I can goddamn feel it." He kisses him again. Harder. Forcing Cas to keep up before pulling away to say, "I feel you..."

"Dean, please." Cas rolls his eyes back when he strokes him through the leather. "This is not the time."

"When is it ever the time?" He shoves him back and follows Cas down, grinding against his front without reservation. Jesus, he feels so damn good.

Cas makes a dark noise in the back of his throat and closes his eyes, gripping his hips too hard.

"Fuck… yeah, like that." He groans when Cas' stiffness slides along his in just that perfect way. Dean bends down to bite the crook of his neck and suck skin in between his teeth to worry. Harder. So even if they never do this again... Cas will remember.

"Uhh Dean!" he pants, pushing up into him with purpose to make that amazing friction.

"Yeah... yeah, Cas… uhh.."

KNOCK KNOCK

A sharp pound on the door almost makes him fall off the bed but Cas catches him.

"Do you want to have the demon chat after you fuck like bunnies, then?" that dick with wings Balthazar calls out.

He looks down with open-mouthed horror at Cas in confusion and embarrassment.

"That's what I was trying to tell you," he sighs in aggravation while sitting up on his elbows. "I am not alone."

Dean lets out a short bark laugh and glares down at him. "Yeah, well try harder next time."

He can't stay mad, even though he's frustrated as hell. Cas stares up at him... well at his mouth and he's still sitting on top of his lap.

"So I should probably get off you."

Cas swallows and says, "Probably," but then pushes his hands into the mattress to stretch up closer anyway.

"That was a 'Yeah', Princess. Get off him." Gabriel calls this time.

"Fucking Superman hearing."

He mutters and gives Cas a last heated look before shifting off him onto the floor. He stomps into the bathroom and splashes cold water onto his face until he can get his body under control. When he gets out, Cas is waiting by the door for him. After he grabs his jacket, keys and wallet, Dean blows out a breath and yanks it open.

His two favorite dicks with wings are sitting on the hood of his baby.

"Hey! Ass off the car!"

Balthazar looks up. "Oh sorry. Thought you'd be longer." Both step down leisurely. "You humans have no lasting power. Poor Cassie."

"Cute."

Cas closes the door and comes to stand next to Dean, who starts to say, "So what's the-"

"Oh wow." Balthazar starts chuckling for some reason and Gabriel isn't far behind him.

"What?"

"Ignore them," Cas says, glaring at them.

Dean scowls from him to the amused angels.

Gabriel claps his back. "You reek, Barbie."

"Huh?"

"Humans don't usually come in contact with our wings." Cas says, stiffly.

"Okay… what does that mean?"

Gabriel smirks and says, "Well let's just say it's obvious our boy Cas didn't spend the night wrestling with demons."

Dean feels his skin flush, knowing he apparently smelled like Cas or whatever. What the fuck was that about? And now they're both looking at him and snickering and Cas puts a hand on his shoulder like he needed comfort or some shit. The urge to shoot one of them in the foot is like a happy fantasy. It wouldn't kill them after all.

"Great. Anyway, can we go fucking meet with a demon already?"

Cas steps towards him.

"In the goddamn car, please?!" Dean starts stomping past them towards the Impala. He'll be damned if Cas is gonna carry him thousands of feet up while those two crack jokes. He gets in, slams the door and waits. After a few clipped words from Cas he can't hear over the growl of his engine, all the angels take a seat in the car. Cas gets shotgun. He was surprised Balthazar and Gabe came with him instead of flying but didn't show it.

Dean backs out and pulls into the sparse late night traffic. "Okay, where's this cemetery?"

Gabriel leans over the seat and gives directions to a graveyard about 150 miles away. Apparently what only took Gabriel a few minutes to warp speed fly, took the Impala two hours to cover. His stomach churned just thinking about it. Another reason he was happy to be covering the distance on the ground… even if it was damned slow in comparison.

The angels in the back seemed bored and frequently complained about the cramped space but Dean just turned Rush up higher. Cas seemed content though he shifted every once in a while like he was trying in vain to get comfortable. Dean didn't really look at him too often. It was hard not to concentrate on the parts of his body he knew pretty intimately now or memories from last night and with angels probably listening in... Unbidden, he focuses on Cas' mouth for just a moment and that's all it takes.

"Can you please refrain from vivid fantasizes of our brother giving you head while we're in the car?" Balthazar smiles at him politely in the mirror.

Cas looks at him startled, before looking out the window, trying to hide the way his lips are curling up in satisfaction.

"Stay the fuck outta my head if you don't like the show," Dean calls over his shoulder, smiling back sweetly.

As he turns back, Cas looks at him and it's a little hotter. A little darker.

Dean tries not to look his way again the rest of the time. It would be really freaking embarrassing to have a hard on when he got out.

Finally, they pull up a little after midnight and all the angels immediately pour out, stretching comically and making shivering motions with their back. Feathers ruffling fill the air as they get re-adjusted.

Dean takes a quick look around. Nothing stirs, only the dead resting. Clear night, no fog or cloudy skies covering the moon like in a monster movie... that had to be a good omen right?

"He didn't show?" he asks, walking forward into the cemetery and squinting down the rows of tombstones.

Cas steps beside him and spins slowly. "No, he's here." Gabriel and Balthazar spread out to their sides and search the darkness too, hands on blades at their sides.

"Didn't think you could fit a blade in pants those tight," Dean throws back towards Balthazar.

"You'd be amazed what I can fit in these pants," Balthazar smirks as he scans the shadows.

"Focus, kids." Gabriel says, staring ahead at Crowley who suddenly just appears before them.

"Well hello, Boys. Nice night for a rendezvous." He raises an eyebrow at them as they each hold their blades higher and Dean steps a little closer. Bowing his head, he paces slowly like he isn't concerned in the least at being outnumbered and out-gunned.

"So glad you could make it. And with all your extremities attached even."

"No thanks to your royal prickness." Dean grips the hilt of his knife harder. "Start talkin' or I'm taking out one more demon."

"Did the whole angel brigade have to come? We couldn't just chat as friends?"

Balthazar makes a "pfftt" noise and Dean asks, ""Considering your stunt last time? Think I need the back-up."

Crowley nods. "And what if I said I'd only talk to you? Alone. Without the holy trinity."

"No." Cas says it with his voice so low it's almost painful to hear.

"Even if I promise not to kill him?"

Before Dean can answer that, Cas steps forward into Crowley's space.

"I will destroy you right now if you suggest it again."

Crowley turns to Dean and it's apparent he's rattled by the cold venom in Cas' expression. "Calm your boyfriend, will you? Obviously he's the dominant one. "

When Cas seems to snap out of his menacing stance and step back, Crowley notices. He tilts his head at him, watching him actually blush before looking away.

"Oh ho, well that's rich. Something's changed since our last little get together."

Dean huffs and tries to move past it. "Look, I don't know what you're talking about but-"

"Been touched by an Angel, eh?"

Gritting his teeth, Dean says, "Yeah and you're about to be stabbed by a Hunter."

Crowley gestures towards Cas' neck and laughs. "And a hickey? My, my, what are you 14?"

"He's 23," Balthazar offers, smirking at Cas.

Gabriel twirls his blade, clearing his throat to stifle his own laugh. "Alright, enough stalling. Get to the main event."

"Fine, deny me my banter. Have you heard of the Prophecy of the Righteous Man?"

Gabriel stops twirling abruptly and Crowley grins at him.

"Care to clue the rest of the class in?" Balthazar glibly asks.

"The Morning Star," Gabriel says softly, suddenly looking right at Dean with a suspicious frown.

The two other angels flinch in recognition.

"Bingo." Crowley bows his head coyly, continuing to pace again. " _And it is written, He that halts the rise of the Morning Star will also offer the key to his cage._ "

"Okay?" Dean raises an eyebrow looking at Cas who's face has gone stony. "What the hell's this star got to do with anything?"

Crowley shakes his head. "Kids today."

"Dean, Morning Star is another name for Lucifer," Cas informs him, frowning.

"Lucifer? Seriously? As in the devil?"

He's so not getting what everyone's beating around the bush about. What has Cas on edge and both pain in the ass angels quiet. He'd always thought the devil was a myth made up by demons.

"Go on. Tell him the rest. Get it all out." Gabriel says, staring at Crowley.

"No." Cas clenches his jaw.

" _As the Son of this righteous man breathes his last breath-_ "

"I said, No!" Cas growls, grabbing Crowley by the tie and shirt collar.

" _So shall He take his first on Earth._ " Gabriel finishes behind him.

"You lost me. He who? He the devil?"

Cas shoves Crowley away and starts to pace now, blade out.

Crowley seems to be enjoying all their reactions. "It means, darling, you have to die to let Lucifer free. They've mapped out the time, the place and your number's about up."

"So we just kill him now and we're good, right?" Balthazar says but throws up his hands in surrender when Cas gives him a deadly look. "Sorry, sorry."

Dean can't really wrap his head around some ancient prophecy talking about him. "Why me?"

Crowley shrugs. "Ask the great absent one if you seen 'em. Isn't he always asking someone's son to die? Bit bloodthirsty, isn't he?"

"This is their endgame? Unlocking the devil's cage? I thought these things took centuries or whatever for everything to line up right and shit." Azazel had went on about it that night his mother died but he doesn't really want to mention that night here and now.

"Usually they do. The next one isn't due for a millennia. They have this one last chance to make good on their promises to the all-powerful trapped one. Just imagine how coveted your presence will be." He steps closer to Dean. "Round two, Game Match. Everything's falling into place. They've already sent their demon henchman out to gather the sordid ingredients."

Looking at Cas and smirking, he says, "And eventually, they'll come to their last one."

Dean sighs. "Me."

"You." Crowley turns back to him.

"So why haven't I seen more black-eyes out searching for me? Don't seem to be in any hurry."

"What makes you think they don't know exactly where you are?" Crowley raises his eyebrows in a smug expression before asking, "Or maybe they think you'll come to them."

"How's that?"

"Dean, we should leave," Cas says suddenly.

He looks from him to Crowley. "No, how's that? Why would I-"

"Dean, please. This demon isn't going to help-"

"Now now, Castiel. He's a big boy. See, the prophecy only says Son and correct me if I'm wrong, but your daddy had two boys, no?"

"Sam!" he gasps before he can stop himself.

"Now you're getting it."

Dean lunges but Castiel puts out an arm to hold him back. He practically spits in Crowley's face as he yells, "You fucking bastard! "

"And where do you fall in all this?" Gabriel calmly says behind him.

"Glad you asked." He plucks his jacket from Dean's hands and tries to smooth it. "Bloody barbarian."

"I would start talking," Castiel says, holding a hand to Dean's sternum to keep him from charging again.

"All I was supposed to do is lay the cards down and let you know the score as it were… but I wanna up the ante."

"Oh, this should be good." Balthazar folds his arms.

"Regime change. Alastair and Azazel… they're from another era. Stuck in the old ways. Now if I go tell them you're a good little dog and will give up without a fight, then I give your angel bodyguards the when and where…"

"You don't know where Sam is," Dean realizes aloud.

Crowley pauses. "Don't we?"

"No, you don't. I'm a hell of a lot more hassel. If you had him, you wouldn't need me."

Crowley continues and Dean knows he's right by the way he lost a little of that smugness. He can relax just a fraction. "So they call up their angel armies, stop the rise, keep Dean topside, and take out some nasty pieces of work in the process. Everybody wins."

"You left out that you'll take over Hell." Gabriel folds his arms now too.

"Well I'm nothing if not ambitious."

"So you'd help us?" Dean asks with distrust.

"No I'd give you a few pieces of information. The rest is up to you and your heavenly helpers."

Dean takes a minute to consider then asks, "Have you heard anything about my father?"

"Sorry?"

"John Winchester. The Righteous Man or whatever bullshit. They… they get em?"

Crowley sneers but simply says, "Not that I'm privy to. So are we done? You go home, act natural, I'll ring you when it's time and you pray at your angel, okay? Everyone's happy."

Dean nods but then remembers. "Wait! Charlie."

"Now who's this then?"

"Charlie Bradbury. About my age. Redhead. Yea high." Dean raises his hand up as he walked closer. "You snatched her soul in a demon deal."

"Oh right. Poor mama didn't last as I understand it. I should send her a card."

"Keep the card. Give her back her soul."

"Well... since you asked nicely."

Dean straightens. "Really?"

"Of course not!" Crowley yells it. "Who are you to come asking for a soul from me?! That's my bread and butter, Sunshine. I'm giving you a hell of a lot of help at great risk to my own person."

"Yeah you're such a saint." Dean stands his ground as Crowley seems to fume at the presumption.

Sighing out through his nose like he's working to calm himself, Crowley looks up and says, "I'll just go tell them you passed on the deal then shall I? Let them concentrate their efforts on finding the other Winchester boy." He makes as if to walk away.

Dean glances at Cas' tense expression and knows they're out of options. "Stop."

Crowley sighs and turns back with an oily grin. "Good. Now if we're quite finished… "

"No. We're not. We don't even know when this is going down."

"You'll know when I know. Azazel's not back in town yet."

"Tell me where Alastair is."

"So you can go tearing after him and blow the whole thing early? No thank you. We need both of them taken out. Be a patient pup and wait for my signal."

Dean stiffens to threaten him but its Cas that steps forward. "If you betray us again, Demon, I'll carve out your heart."

"Now Castiel, its poor taste to flirt in front of your boyfriend."

With a gust of wind, he's gone.

"Well he's barrel of laughs." Balthazar flips his blade absently while they turn to walk back towards the road.

Balthazar and Gabriel talk quietly while Dean and Cas say their goodbyes on the other side of the car.

Even leaning against the Impala's side, Cas seems tense, staring out at the cemetery they were just hashing out a plan with a demon in.

"It'll be alright, ya know." He glances up at Cas who just continues staring ahead. That prophecy shit kinda shook him a little too but he doesn't want to think about it. What's some dead prophet know about him anyway? "It's just words. Doesn't mean-"

"It's a prophecy, Dean! About your death letting Lucifer out. Nothing is alright." He fists his hands at his sides and vibrates with anger.

"Hey. Listen to me. You'll go give your angel buddies the info, they'll come in like the cavalry, there's nothing to worry about."

Cas nods but still with that frown.

"So, last night…" Dean drops his hand at his side between them, casually.

That does the trick. Cas' expression breaks a little and his lips twitch, close to a smile. "Yes. Last Night."

Looking straight ahead also, Dean shifts in place and says, "It was nice." Everything sounded lame inside his head. Nice? It was fucking amazing and he's still kind of in awe of the whole thing. But this was new territory. Complicated. Usually, once it was over he was looking for his shoes. He didn't even know how to ask for more. If he should. If Cas wanted to. Fuck, just talk.

"Maybe we could…" Dean doesn't know why he feels like a nervous virgin but he touches Cas' fingers cautiously by his side so that it could be a mistake if he wasn't into it.

Cas smiles and checks over his shoulder that his brothers are busy bickering. He laces their fingers and turns so he's very close.

"Yes, Dean?"

Dean smiles, knowing Cas is playing with him now. "I think you know what I'm talking about."

Cas opens his mouth then glances away again to their distracted audience.

"I don't believe I do."

Dean rubs a thumb over Cas' and says, "Read my mind."

He thinks of them back at the motel. This time his brothers aren't just on the other side of the door. He thinks of them in that exact position but without clothes on. Dean straddling him, Cas thrusting into him. Dean biting his neck and making a darker, angry mark. Rocking over him harder. Faster. Deeper.

Cas' eyes widen and he licks his lips as Dean leans a little closer and reaches forward to cup his neck, dragging a finger over the stupid hickey.

"Hey, Lover Wings!" Gabriel's voice intrudes on their moment and they both take a step back. "We need to get back to Michael and report. Remember the whole Lucifer getting sprung from his cage problem-o?"

Both Gabriel and Balthazar come around the side of the car. "Keep us in the loop, Barbie. No going off cowboy-style and screwin' this up."

"Yeah, I'll pray to Cas-"

"You'll pray to all of us," Gabriel corrects.

Cas seems annoyed by that but nods. Then it's apparent that this is the moment when he should leave but he doesn't move. After a second of Dean and him staring at one another, his brothers get impatient and each take an arm and fly off with him. He's left alone in an empty cemetery 2 hours away from his hotel. Maybe he should have let Cas fly him here. At least then they would have been close for a little while before he left. And with that sappy thought, Dean sighs and looks up.

 _Come back if you can._ Dean prays it towards that dark sky above him. Not knowing where they stood. What would happen. He just knew he wanted to see Cas again.

As he turns and unlocks the Impala's door, he hears a soft thud and rustle of feathers.

He spins and sees it was Cas that dropped back down behind him.

"What?"

Cas' fingers reach around to the back of his head and kisses him hard, practically pressing him into the car with his body. Before he fully knows what's going on, Dean snakes an arm up his back and holds him close, giving back as good as he's getting.

When he pulls back, Cas gives him a warm smile. "I will."

Kissing him quickly once more, he releases Dean and shoots up into the air.


	21. Little Sister

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's my choice, Cas.

_Cas_

It's the first time she's ever prayed to him. In all the years since she'd fallen and they'd been separated, she'd never once called out to him… but now she is.

Castiel drops out of the sky several yards outside their nest and keeps long strides to stay alongside his brothers. They walk briskly with purpose towards the impending conversation. It's important. His mind should be on how they need to sway Michael but he can't help listening for Anna now.

There, once again… _Cas_

"Get rid of that," Gabriel mutters when they're almost to the tree.

Castiel looks up from frowning at the ground. "What?"

"It's garish and juvenile," Balthazar says, flicking him on the neck to indicate Dean's mark that he'd all but forgotten.

"More than that… showing off a love bite from the human you're screwing ain't exactly the best idea right now." Shoulders tense, Gabriel seems devoid of his easy humor as he stops outside the entrance.

Castiel reaches up and touches over the mark, reluctantly. "Of course."

He needs to focus. Anna could wait. One last pass over the spot where Dean had sucked on his neck and his skin was clean of all indications of their joining. He already misses it.

Gabriel nods and puffs out a breath. "Alright kiddos, let's do this." He walks in, squaring his shoulders.

Balthazar stops next to him just before following to casually say, "Don't look so glum, Cassie. Your hunter boyfriend can give you another."

Inside, Michael looks up when they enter one after another.

"Uriel," he says while staring at them and a second later the angel drops before them, having been lying above at his resting spot.

"What have you to tell me?" Michael addresses Gabriel, sensing immediately the difference in their demeanors.

"We got problems."

_Cas_

Castiel's distracted all through Gabriel running down what they'd learned about the prophecy, carefully omitting their source so that Michael would assume Dean provided the information. Anna is calling to him again. Is she in trouble? She must be. He needs to know. Why now? Why-

"Convenient that the human you are infatuated with is suddenly the subject of a centuries old prophecy," Uriel sneers at him but he's not even aware of it. Anna is asking him to come now. Please come to her. Please.

Balthazar bumps his arm and Castiel frowns at him. That's when he notices they're all quiet and staring at him. Gabriel's eyebrows are raised high and his eyes are wide in annoyance. After a beat, he quickly fills the silence.

"Look, Dean Winchester became a part of the prophecy the moment his daddy stopped their first try. Lucy was almost top-side-"

"Something we have no evidence ever happened," Uriel crosses his arms.

Angels were arrogant. None had ever accepted that the demons had been so close to freeing Lucifer without their knowledge. And that a simple human had been able to prevent it…

Castiel tilts his head, forehead scrunching, and steps forward. "His family has given up much for that one act from John Winchester. You should show them some respect, not your scorn."

"Nice one." Gabriel throws up his hands as Uriel's wings puff up and his arms unfold.

"Humans who believe they are capable of combating with a demon deserve their end… and my scorn."

Uriel made no secret of his distaste for Hunters and it was nothing he hadn't heard a hundred times but just now, it made Castiel want to lash out at him.

They're glaring from too close, neither giving ground when Gabriel flings out his wings to draw attention back to him. "Michael, we need to act."

Michael turns to him, dispassionately. "So far I've heard nothing to indicate you've been successful in finding the demon Alastair. All you have is tenuous connections."

"We will not know until Crowley has…" Castiel trails off seeing Balthazar frantically waving his arms.

"Crowley?!" Uriel growls.

"You have been taking counsel with a demon?" Michael seems outwardly composed but his jaw tightens.

Castiel furrows his brow in weariness and starts slowly. "He had information." Quickly rewriting to leave out Dean he adds, "He is to tell me a location once Azazel has returned."

"And do we now make deals with the damned like naïve humans? Gabriel? Balthazar?" Michael turns to each of them with menace in his tone.

"You should have killed him the moment you saw him," Uriel practically spits it at them, shaking his head in disgust.

Gabriel sighs. "It was a skeezy means to an end."

"You lied to me," Michael accuses, without inflection.

"Technically…" Balthazar pops up his index finger to retort but at Michael's dark look, he laughs nervously and shrugs instead.

Turning back to Gabriel he glares. "You had me believe Castiel's human had information about Alastair's whereabouts. Instead you are letting a demon mislead you with talk of ancient prophecies."

This was going all wrong. He'd allowed himself to get distracted and now Michael wasn't even listening to them. Working with a human was offensive. Working with a demon was an abomination.

"Brother, please. We know-"

"You know nothing, Castiel!" Michaels voice echoes off the walls and he remains very still staring at his brother, so usually calm and in control.

Gabriel waits a tense minute, evaluating Michael before continuing. "You want us just to ignore Lucifer getting out?"

Michael lifts his chin, clearly uninterested in talking about it any further. Gabriel straightens a little and says, "Yeah well, this isn't your call to make, Bro. This is bigger than us. We go up top for answers on this one."

Uriel scoffs. "You dare to challenge-"

"Oh I dare, Big Guy. Don't let the roguish good looks fool ya. I could knock you on your ass on my worst day. Maybe you guys forgot that... but today I'm reminding you."

Uriel's face twists in something close to loathing.

Michael only stares at him, as if waiting for him to take the words back. After a moment he coolly bites out a response. "This isn't one of your trickster games, Gabriel. Are you sure you want to do this?"

Without pausing a second, he answers, "Yep. This is me standing up for something. Try to contain your pride."

Michael nods stiffly. "Very well. Since our brother seems to have shaken himself out of his lethargy, Gabriel and I will seek counsel. Uriel will remain here acting in command. Report to him in the meantime."

Uriel puffs up again with aggression. "If Crowley tells you a location for that swine Alastair, you are to tell me immediately. This has taken too long. I will deal with this where you are obviously inept."

Castiel nods even as he knows he won't let Uriel have this kill. Dean has lost too much and it is too important to him. They exit their nest with Uriel deciding to patrol in hopes of finding a demon to interrogate. There's no way of knowing how long it will take for his brothers to gather the other garrison leaders and elders to arrive at a decision. Regardless if they decide to help or not, Castiel knew he would not leave Dean's side. With or without their assistance, he would follow Dean into Hell itself.

Gabriel gives him a last look then Balthazar, before lifting upward.

_CASTIEL!_

He jumps and stares anxiously as Michael says a few parting words to Uriel. Moments later, they finally take off as well.

Balthazar immediately turns to him. "Okay, what is it?"

"Anna. It's Anna. She's praying- screaming for me to come."

Balthazar only pauses for a brief second to take that in, then he looks up at the direction their brother's had just flown. Turning back to him, he simply says, "Go."

"But…" Castiel darts his eyes at the skies in panic. "I can't. If Uriel returns-"

"I got it. Go, Cassie." Balthazar says, shoving him away. "And tell my darling little sister hello for me," he smiles sadly but Castiel barely sees it.

Blood rushing in his ears, he flies hard, pushing through the sky on that familiar route he'd flown so many times before. She'd been calling for over an hour but now she's quiet. She hadn't prayed again since he took to the air.

Castiel touches down several yards away from her house in the shadows. He doesn't break stride, walking up towards her small house. Her human is outside. Robert. Robert is holding his head in his hands but quickly looks up when Castiel approaches.

"She said you might not come, but to wait anyway."

"What's happened?" he spares the man a glace before looking up at the house, wearily.

"Just go. Please, before it's too late." Robert holds his head once more, breath catching on a sob.

Castiel folds his wings and crosses the threshold with dread. He doesn't take in the pictures of flowers, the vases, the touches of her everywhere... instead he takes the stairs two at a time and waits. He hears noise in a room to his left and follows it.

When he sees her, it's as if for the first time in years. Her hair is damp with sweat and eyes sunken. She's very still but her labored breathing indicates she lives, even if he couldn't hear her stuttering heart.

He steps softly to the foot of the bed and looks over her body. She looks so… small. Soft. Vulnerable. This was once a warrior of Heaven. His sister.

Frowning, he cocks his head. "You said humans get sick."

She opens her eyes and smiles softly at him. "Cas."

"This is no ordinary sickness." He says it like an accusation.

"I'm dying." She coughs harshly for a moment then slumps into the bed again.

"No. I will not let you."

"That's cheating." Anna smiles but it's tired.

Castiel reaches out towards her anyway but she shakes her head weakly.

"I didn't pray to you for that. I wanted to say goodbye."

"No!" he says low and fierce.

"It's my choice, Castiel. I know it's selfish but I wanted to see you again. Tell you-"

"Your choices are foolish, Anna! They've led you here where you are dying and frail like any other human."

"You would spend my last moments arguing?" she raises an eyebrow and smirks despite the evident pain.

If she goes this way, as a human… Castiel doubts he would ever be able to find her. Amidst all those souls in Heaven, she would be truly, finally lost to him.

After a moment of quiet, he steps forward. She reaches out so he slowly gives her his hand. "Respect my wishes."

She's telling him not to heal her. Not to make her better when it would only take a thought. Why would she be this cruel?

With several moments of numb panic and his mind racing, Castiel thinks to ask, "Do you know where you fell? Perhaps we could- I could attempt to retrieve your…"

Anna pulls a glowing necklace out from under her shirt. A blue vial, majestic in its brilliance.

"Your grace…"

"I never lost it."

"But now you can-"

"No."

Castiel works not to tighten his hold and crush her hand in frustrated anger.

"You will not let me help you. You will not be restored to an angel once more… this is needless. Unnecessary. I don't understand this."

"I know you don't. That's ok. A human can't choose not to die, Castiel." She softens and cups his cheek. "Cas…"

He wants to scream at her that she's not a human, but he swallows the rage. Anna didn't call him because she needed him. She called him to say goodbye.

Castiel feels his face wet and heart sink watching each breath stutter. Each heartbeat thud a little slower and longer apart.

"Balthazar said to tell you hello," he remembers suddenly. It sounds slightly ridiculous to say at a moment like this but he won't have another chance to tell her.

The lines at the corners of her mouth deepen as she grins with her eyes closed. "Tell him hi back."

He watches her as the smile fades and her face smoothes. Reluctantly he says, "I should get your hu- Robert."

"We've already said our goodbyes and our I love yous. Now I needed to tell you 'I love you' and…" She weakly holds up the vial between two fingers. "I wanted you to have it. That way you'll always have a piece of me."

"Anna." He voice breaks with pain. "Please."

"Cas…" she bows for a second in pain then once it subsides, settles closer to him. "Will you tell me a story? One of our stories. Remember when we pissed off Naomi…" she grimaces, "you took that stupid horn?"

He laughs even as he sniffs. "No you took the horn; I only assisted with a distraction."

"Oh, that's right," she hums. "Tell me the rest. I can't seem to remember…"

Castiel begins in slow measured voice, only pausing a few moments when his voice breaks as he feels her soul depart. He watches it ascend but continues speaking until it's finished and the story ends with them together, laughing.

+++ +++ +++ +++

Dean passed out as soon as he got back. Two hour drive from a cemetery in the middle of nowhere and he'd been dead tired. Fucking demons and their need for creepy atmosphere. Why can't those things ever go down at a Starbucks?

He checked his messages, nothing from his dad or Bobby and fell into bed.

It couldn't have been more than an hour or two when he's blinking into the dark and waiting for his eyes to adjust. He should be used to waking up with angels in his room after his last couple of days, but Dean's still jarred to look over his shoulder and see Cas sitting on the edge of the bed.

"Cas?" he blinks. Early darkness softening through the blinds makes it sometime after 5 maybe 6 am at the latest.

Cas doesn't answer. Just keeps staring ahead until he gets a bad feeling. What's gone wrong now?

Rubbing his eyes and sitting up against the headboard, Dean asks, "Hey. You ok, man?" He waits but Cas still doesn't say anything for several moments… long enough for Dean to wake up fully and run at least a handful of awful possibilities through his head.

Dean touches his shoulder tentatively and Cas eventually mumbles something he can't catch.

"Huh?"

"She died."

"Who, Cas?" Then he immediately realizes who. The only 'she' Cas ever spoke of. "What happened?"

"Humans die," he says simply.

Dean knows he isn't good with consoling words so he doesn't even try. Just pulls Cas backwards until he falls easily onto his side and he goes without a fight. Dean holds him and he slumps boneless in his arms. It's like they're spooning, something he would usually find mushy and uncomfortable but instead he just wants to help. Make Cas feel like he's not alone, because he absolutely knows that's what he's feeling right now.

He isn't fighting through feathers so Cas must have enough presence of mind to have them tucked away into wherever they go when he can't feel them. Dean strokes his free hand down his neck and side, rubbing his cheek at his shoulder and holding him tight.

After what feels like an hour of slack angel in his arms, Cas turns suddenly and knocks him back. His mouth presses hard and forceful against Dean's until he's gasping breath.

Dean turns his head away. "Hey, c'mon, Cas. You're not-"

"Please." Cas pulls back, eyes red-rimmed and wrecked with so much emotion that he always keeps back. It's hard to take. He kisses him again, bruising in a demanding way, then only stops long enough to gravelly whisper, "Don't say no."

He drops down to kiss him once more before keeping his lips on Dean's jaw line to wait tensely for an answer.

Dean hesitates only a second. "Yeah... Yeah, whatever you need."

If Cas needed something else to focus on, it was some way he could help, he wouldn't turn him away.

All his weight lands on Dean at once, pressing him down into the mattress. Grabbing Dean's wrists, he holds him down while rubbing along him, kissing him deep and demanding. Just when Dean's starting to moan into his mouth, Cas pulls back to shove him over onto his stomach. It's not soft or full of awe.

Yanking down his boxers to his knees, Cas dives forward to lick him without asking.

"Christ," Dean huffs into mattress, gasping.

Cas doesn't pause, just licks wetly and shoves two fingers in stretching him painfully before he was ready. He won't tell him to stop. Instead, Dean bites down hard on his lip when Cas is too quickly pressing the head of his cock in and heaving forward.

"Ahhh," Dean drops his head down to bite the nearby pillow.

It's rough. Too rough. Fingers dig into his hips pulling him back towards Cas in jerky movements. Dean white-knuckles the side of the bed, taking it. His dick is half hard, but he's not paying attention to it. This is for Cas. And even though it hurts, he can take it.

Dean braces on his forearms as Cas continues to steadily ram into him over and over without mercy or patience. When Dean lets out a grunt in pain before he can stop the sound, his rhythm falters.

Cas is still for a only a moment before taking a deep-breath. Releasing his fingers from where they had been clawing at Dean's hip, he slowly rubs up Dean's spine. Cas shifts so he's lying along his back, kissing his shoulder. Reaching down, his hands knead gently at his hips before moving one lower to stroke him. The other comes back up to push through Dean's short hair as he mouths his neck, producing shivers.

"Sorry," he rasps, kissing him softly along his shoulder and neck. "I'm sorry."

"I said whatever you need," Dean pants, rubs his head back against his hand. Wanting anything Cas could give right now. Wanting to be something he could lose himself in and forget the pain for a few minutes.

The pace picks up again but this time it starts to feel good. It's still hard but not as brutal. Cas drops his face against Dean's neck and rubs his scruffy cheek there, making him shudder in pleasure. He's stiff and thrusting into Cas' hand, feeling the warm stirrings build quick.

Cas makes sure he cums first before he clutches Dean tightly from behind and cries out into his sweaty skin.

When their breathing steadies, Cas withdraws and finds a towel, helping Dean get cleaned up and wipe the mess off the bed. Afterward, he lies on his back next to him and all Dean can do is watch all the emotion drain out of his face, leaving it blank again.

Staring upward, Cas quietly asks, "Did I hurt you?"

"Nah. I'm kinda sore but no biggie."

His face scrunches as he frowns up at the ceiling. "I should not have come."

"I'm glad you did."

Cas looks at him with confusion, like he doesn't trust that. "I should leave."

"No, you should stay," Dean says, matter-of-fact.

"Why? After that…"

"Cas, I'm fine. You're not. C'mon, stay. Just… just for a little while?"

Cas continues watching him with uncertainty.

"I mean, if you want," Dean adds, weakly, after a second.

The angel doesn't answer, just closes his eyes and stays facing him. Dean slowly lifts his arm to awkwardly cup his face, then bring him closer so their foreheads touch. They stay like that for a long while. Eventually, Cas starts shaking with small tremors and Dean does his best to soothe him. At one point, Dean opens his eyes and catches a glimpse of blue light winking below the rim of Cas' shirt.

He drags his hand from Cas' scratchy cheek to inbetween them. Just as he's almost touching it, Cas grasps his hand in a painful grip to stop him. He opens his eyes and they look at each other so close it makes his eyes cross. Slowly, he releases him but Dean doesn't reach for it again.

"What is it?"

"Anna," Cas' voice broke on her name. "What's left of her anyway."

Dean looks at it, not understanding, but sensing Cas wouldn't be able to talk much more about it.

"It's beautiful."

Cas smiles sadly and after a beat he takes Dean's hand and brings it forward, giving permission.

It's warm as he gently rolls it between his callused fingers. The blue light seems to brighten for just a moment from the contact. It swirls behind the glass, memorizing.

Cas turns his head away all of the sudden and tears leak out the corner of his eyes. Feeling unsure but knowing he needed to touch him, comfort him, Dean gathers him into his arms like he's a child instead of a warrior of God. Cas encircles him with an arm as well, clutching too hard while he shakes with quiet sobs. Dean rubs his hands constantly up and down his back, helplessly. He would just keep touching him over and over if he could do nothing else.

"Thank you, Dean. I didn't… I didn't know where else to go," Cas mumbles into his shoulder.

Lips twitching up at that, Dean strokes his hair and pulls him even closer. "Well, you can always come to me."

Yeah, it's sappy… but for Cas, he can endure a few chick flick moments.

+++ +++ +++ +++ 

A kick to his foot has Dean groggily shifting deeper into the pillow. Reaching out across the bed, he realizes he's alone in the twisted sheets of his motel bed. Still kinda dis-oriented, he pushes to a half-sitting position and blinks. He must have fallen asleep at some point because daylight's blaring through the open blinds all cheery and annoying.

"You gonna sleep all day, Boy?"

Turning so fast he could have whiplash, Dean's heart gets trapped in his throat when looks up to see none other than John Winchester smiling down at him.

"Dad?!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello my darlings. Just a few reminders... my tumblr is [ZombeeBlackCat](http://zombeeblackcat.tumblr.com) . Come say Hi! Also this story is on fanfiction.net as well under my pen name Zombeecat if you prefer that site. There will most likely be about four more chapters to this story, give or take a chapter. Hope you are enjoying and I adore you all.


	22. Reunions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> By the time the angels decide to get off their pretentious asses to help, it'll all be over.

Dean stares up at his dad in panic. "What.. uh, when did you get here?"

Turning away, John begins to collect clothes, newspapers and a stray weapon or two and toss them at Dean's duffel.

"About 3 minutes ago."

He can't resist looking around the room once more in confusion to make sure Cas wasn't still there. It's tripping him up, seeing his absent father suddenly appear when it feels like he was just holding Cas. Hell, he can still smell him on the sheets.

"She's gone," John says while scanning the surfaces for any other belongings.

Widening his eyes, Dean asks, "Huh? Who?"

"Whoever left scratches and spots all over you. Glad you were keeping busy while I was away."

Dean's neck ruffles at the familiar feeling of his father's disapproval. He catches a shirt with one hand that's thrown his way and a pair of jeans follow right after.

"Shower, grab your gear and be outside in 10 mins. We got work to do."

John zips up his bag and heads for the door, Impala's keys in his hand. Dean starts to yell, "Wait, where were you-" but his father's already out into the cheery daylight. .

Awesome. Dean slowly sits on the edge of the bed, feeling soreness that makes him blush with his dad right outside. Rubbing his eyes, he tries to clear his head from where it's spinning.

Dean takes a second to throw a quick prayer to Cas and tells him to stay away. For now, at least. He had to figure out a way to unload a lot of information on his dad, who wasn't great at dealing with surprises at the best of times. Crowley, Alastair, Angels, the prophecy bullshit… he wasn't looking forward to the upcoming car ride. When the dust settled, he'd find somewhere to meet Cas. Dean didn't know if or when they'd have another chance to be together… it felt like a cold slice of reality just woke him up. This was temporary. It always was. Something nice before their big showdown. And now it was over.

Oddly, he wishes Cas would have been here when he woke up. Which is dumb, especially since his dad would have caught them, but for the first time, he wouldn't have minded waking up next to a warm body.

Sighing, Dean feels the gruff hunter exterior wrap around him, back stiffening military straight. He takes a breath and marches into shower.

+++ +++ +++ +++

"Castiel?"

He doesn't look down to where Balthazar is calling from the ground.

A second and a gust of wind later and he perches on a nearby tree limb.

"Well you made it fun to find you."

"Has Gabriel and Michael returned?" he asks, not looking at his brother.

"They have not. Uriel did. You're out scouting by the way, just so you know."

"Thank you," he responds quietly.

"What happened-" he pauses when Cas flicks his eyes up to him. Taking in his face he quietly continues, "Anna?"

Castiel holds his gaze for a moment more, and then looks off towards the shadows made by the late afternoon sun.

They sit in silence. Balthazar shifts and straddles the tree limb. A long time passes with neither of them saying anything. Abruptly he says, "Well of course. What were we expecting, right?"

Castiel doesn't answer.

"I mean… Humans die. Spoiler! I told you that from the beginning. So what the hell were we expecting, Cassie?!" There's heat in his tone now.

Castiel hangs his head, feeling the weight of his thoughts. "I… I could have saved her. She didn't want me to. Is that unforgivable? I could have…"

Balthazar laughs harshly up at the sky.

"What?" he asks, finding his laughter unfathomable in comparison to his wretched emotions.

"Don't you dare." Balthazar grabs his shoulder in one hand so hard it hurts. He starts several times before he breathes out and smiles but not with any real humor. "She did this. She chose this. Don't you dare take on whatever guilt you have stirring in that head of yours."

He releases his arm to pat it gentler. "But she was our sister. So we mourn her and I don't know... tell happy campfire stories about her but we're not going to do that... Agreed?"

Castiel frowns at him. "Have you ever thought about it?"

"Campfire stories? Oh, frequently."

"I meant falling."

"I know what you meant." He stretches and takes out his blade. Flipping it absently, he says, "I don't see the draw, really."

Balthazar scratches his chin with the tip of Angelblade and hums like he's considering.

"Humans can't fly. They die. They're always needing something. Food, warmth, sleep, comfort, sex... they smell."

"They do not smell." Castiel is surprised into a single laugh of disbelief. Dean only ever smelled good and he wanted to smell him again at that moment very much.

Balthazar smiles and it was clear he was trying to make him smile as well. "Some of them do. Even if you don't buy into the good soldier act like Michael… what's better than this? Being able to go where you like, do what you like?"

"I can't do what I like!" he yells, suddenly angry. Balthazar turns back to him slowly and Castiel can meet his eyes only briefly before averting them. "I don't know how to not have him after this, Balthazar…"

As if picking his words carefully, his brother begins again. "I know it is natural in times like these to think the grass is greener on his side of the fence… but that lost little boy with daddy issues is not worth your wings. I've told you, he's just one human-"

"He's my one. I don't want another. No other human will ever replace him for me, can you not understand that?"

Sighing, Balthazar opens his mouth but cocks his head as he looks at the ground a little in the distance. "I think we have company."

Castiel turns over his shoulder to see a group of 8 mismatched individuals. A few were dressed up in business suits, others in jeans or shorts. All carried a demon along within them, it's dark outline like a pollutant just below the surface.

Balthazar waits until they're right under their tree and staring up at with black glassy eyes. "We were having a bit of a moment. Couldn't you come back later and we'll kill you then?"

One of them, a stout man in workboots and denim, sneers. "Give us the young one and you may leave."

Balthazar smiles at his brother then calls down, "You'll have to be more specific. I don't believe I look a day over 5 centuries."

"This is unwise. We should get assistance," Castiel says low, not taking his eyes off them.

"Aren't you feeling a little unwise?" Batlhazar answers quietly to him while smirking down at the waiting demons. "Besides I have an idea for finding the big bad demons without having to involve your darling hunter."

Castiel lets the anger and helplessness churn through his stomach and overtake the sadness. The prophecy said the demons needed Dean to release Lucifer. To kill Dean. If they could prevent it without Dean, all the better.

Pulling out his blade, he meets his brother's eyes steadily. "Okay."

"It won't be fun…"

"I know."

+++ +++ +++ +++

Dean comes around the passenger side while his dad revs the engine idly. As soon as he closes the door, the Impala takes off, making him fall back against the seat. They drive for several minutes in silence, waiting for his father to say something. Anything.

"So…" Dean sighs finally when it gets too much. Staring at his dad's profile while he drives with one hand on the steering wheel, he waits.

"So?" John parrots without looking at him.

"So where the hell you been?"

"Can't do the job by yourself? Need me to hold your hand?"

Dean flinches and works at keeping his face blank.

"I'm just sayin', I've been calling you for days..."

"Look I can't stop and check in every minute. You know that, Dean."

"Yeah, I know, but-"

"What do you have? Or did you spend the whole time shacked up in the motel?"

Dean feels the back of his neck flush and grits his teeth. "Got intel on Alastair."

His father nods at the windshield. "Tell me."

Dean shifts in place, staring at him hard. That should have been the first thing he asked about. The first thing he even said to him when he woke up and was too off-footed earlier to notice.

Dean reaches casually over the backseat and snatches his back up while he talks about interrogating a demon. John grunts and asks a few questions. He fishes around blindly in his bag, supposedly for a newspaper to show him. He can't feel his knife. All his weapons are there.. but the knife. His hand closes on a glass vial in the side inner pocket and he touches a newspaper and pulls it out with the bottle tucked in his hand.

"It's not in there."

Dean's heart drops and he pops the cap with his thumb. "What isn't?"

"Your favorite pig sticker."

A splash of holy water to the face and his dad's cheek bubbles and hisses. He doesn't howl and scream though, just smiles too large. Grinning. John Winchester never grinned.

"That's good, Dean. Alllll out in the open now."

"Who are you?" Dean pushes away with his back against the door and another bottle in his hand.

Yellow-eyes flash. "How quickly old friends are forgotten."

"Azazel." He growls it, lip curling, and wishes with every goddamn ounce of his being he had his knife. He'd been fucking stupid and careless.

"Why so glum, kid? Thought you were lookin' for me. Well, ta-da. I'm here."

"How'd you get to him."

"Daddy?" He switches hands on the wheel and pulls down the collar of his tshirt to stretch it and reveal a wide, bloody gash disrupting the tattoo. Tilting his head, he waggles his finger at him. "You're never safe, Son."

He sounds so much like his father right there, it gives him the creeps.

"Where are you taking me?"

"Only where you wanna go. We're gonna have us a little reunion. Al, me, you… maybe a special guest, who knows."

"This prophecy thing… you think that's gonna actually work?"

"That's the plan. This is a long time in the making. I won't bore you with all the bells and whistles but once you're bled dry… it'll be one helluva firework show. Too bad you won't see it, huh?"

He was taking him to the endgame. And he had his knife. He didn't know where yet but once he did Cas had to know… he had to tell the other angels…

"I hear the gears grinding in that lunkhead of yours. We got a long ride back… why don't you just…"

The car jerks suddenly and Dean struggles in the sudden scuffle but can't block the beefy fist that dazes him. Something much harder than flesh had hit him in the skull. Flinging the holy water in the direction of his father, Dean miscalculates and punches his shoulder. With a curse, the car veers wildly again and this time the hilt of his knife connects perfectly and takes him out.

+++ +++ +++ +++

Dean groans and lolls his head to the side. Creaking open his eyes, he tries to bring his hands up to rub the dirt out of them but he can't. His arms are too heavy. Forcing himself alert by will alone, he whips his head up and tugs on his wrists in earnest but quickly realizes he's chained to a wall.

"Welcome to the party," his dad, no Azazel, says to his left. Not his dad. Not his dad.

Glancing down, he sees his shirts ripped down around his arms at his shoulders caught on his elbows. Several symbols are drawn inside a circle that spans the width of his chest in what smells like blood.

"What the hell is this crap?"

"Window-dressing, my boy."

"I'm not your boy. You can stop with that shit."

Azazel just smiles back at him out of his father's face, toothy like a shark with his eyes crinkling at the corners.

"Like the digs?"

Dean takes a moment to look around to what appears to be the inside of a barn. Wet mildewy hay, old shovels, with a rusting tractor in the far corner. There's a cement slab of a floor underneath him with a huge symbol painted in white. Can't make it out but it's sure not to mean anything good for him. The space is squeezed tight with groups of people in all size and shapes with the same glassy black eyes that flare when they look at him then bleed to normal. His head still hurts but he immediately starts counting. Maybe 30, give or take a few. More demons in one place than he'd ever seen. Fuck, this was it.

Azazel waits for him patiently to take in the odds and look back to him. Dean squints at just glares, not going to give him anything back. Tired and aching from sagging in his bonds but angry.

"Nothin' to say?"

"What else is there to say?" This was it. They caught him. Had his dad. He didn't know where he was. He was gonna be sacrificed to unleash the devil… as crazy as that sounded. He couldn't pray to angels and tell them to come because he didn't fucking know where he was. What else was there to say?

"Well you're no fun."

Yellow eyes flash and he checks to his right where Dean notices a tall skinny man with brown hair and rolled up sleeves look over at him.

Alastair. Different meatsuit, but the second that nasally voice says, "Hello, Dean," he's sure. "So nice of you to finally join us."

He smiles then goes back to a bowl of oil and a brush, painting intricate strokes over empty manacles on the wall next to Dean, maybe ten feet away.

He curls and uncurls his toes in his boots, trying to focus on that and not his fear. The chains suddenly felt ten times heavier but he would not show this bastard any of it. He'd wedge it deep down as far as he could… for as long as he could. Trying to take his mind off his spiraling thoughts, Dean turns to Azazel. "What's he doing?"

"Surprise guest," Alastair answers instead without looking away from his precise work.

Several more minutes and he seems to finish because he smiles and slowly turns his attention to Dean. It makes his stomach flip and nausea sweeps over him. The demon crosses the distance with slow measured steps and Dean balls his fists to keep calm, hoping he outwardly showed of strength.

Finally, Alastair is right in front of him, eying him steadily. It makes him want to duck his head or look at the ceiling, anywhere else but instead he bites his cheek and stays focuses on the figure of his nightmares.

"Your angel didn't heal your back?"

Dean grits his teeth at the mention of his ruined back. It makes him want to retch thinking of its maker seeing his scars while he was out and defenseless. Or painting this shit on his chest. Eventually he chokes out a gruff, "No" and manages not to look away even though he's feeling phantom twinges in his back.

Alastair's lips twitch to one side in a parody of a smile. "Our time together meant that much to you, Dean? I bet you still look at them in the mirror every night… and think of me."

Dean sneers and leans closer in his bonds, willing himself bitter, cold anger to cover the fear.

"Listen up real good. This face… it's the last you're gonna see."

Alastair smiles wider and glances to Azazel who outwardly laughs indulgently like he was a child that said something cute.

"Arrogance… we like that on our side, Dean. You know after a few decades in hell, you might make a decent demon. Perhaps I could take you under my wing…"

Dean swallows the bile in his throat at the thought and shakes his head so he can look away. Alastair tips the bowl forward and shows him the glistening viscous substance. "Holy oil."

"That supposed to mean something to me?"

"It will. Very soon." Alastair sets it down and starts mumbling quietly over the symbols until they start to glow gold.

His father hops down from the table and stops in front of him.

"Ya know, that spot was originally reserved for little Sammy."

Dean bites his tongue so he doesn't scream out. It's what they want.

"But dear old daddy proved to be made of sterner stuff. Despite Alastair's charms."

Said demon glances at him but doesn't stop his procession of harsh foreign words. It doesn't sound like Latin. At least they hadn't got Sam. They'd be crowing about it if they did. Him and his dad had always been careful never to have anything on them with an address or phone number… they don't have Sam. He repeats it several times to calm his thudding heart and racing thoughts.

The doors burst open and they both turn. A crowd of a half dozen people lugging something. Someone. Dark head bowed, holding him under the arms, bare bloody feet being dragged on the dirty floor.

"Cas…?" Dean squints. "Cas!"

He doesn't respond.

"Goddamnit, Cas?! You alright? Cas!"

The lights, a few hanging bulbs, flicker and he jerks in their hold.

Azazel looks up and laughs at the momentary light show. He whistles and still chuckling says, "Well lookie here. Caught us a big one!"

Dean watches two women lock his angel's wrists in manacles.

"Ahhhh!" Castiel throws his head back in pain and howls. He lunges and tugs and kicks at the ground. He can hear feathers rustling and rubbing. "Where…" he coughs blood and Dean sees with horror that he's leaking it and that weird light from several wounds on his arms, legs, torso. He's so out of it, he doesn't even see Dean yet. Constantly wincing and shaking, Cas tries several more times before he's able to speak.

Azazel pats him shoulder gently. "What's that, Champ? Didn't quite catch that."

"Where's my brother… where's-where's Balthazar?" he mumbles.

Azazel glances at one of the demons who smirks and shakes their head with obvious pride. "Looks like you're one bro short for the family photo now."

"No!" Cas coughs and jerks, kicking at the ground.

"Sorry to be the one to break it to ya. My condolences." Azazel strolls in front of him and when he's very close, Cas suddenly lunges and is brought up short an inch or two away. The demon doesn't jump, but casually says, "Nice to talk to you without a door between us."

"I. Will. Destroy. You." Cas forces it out, guttural voice filled with hate. He drops his head after a second, the energy seeming to have been spent in just that small effort.

"Hey, don't look at me. If you want someone to blame…" he grabs a fistful of Cas' hair and forces his head up. "Look no further than that All-American dream-boat."

"Dean?" Cas pants and winces, focusing on him for the first time.

Dean swallows, forcing himself not to say anything. It's what the bastards want. Azazel lets go of Cas' hair, but he remains staring at him, head up. "Why are you here? Why…"

"You shoulda just given him to me, Castiel. Didn't I ask nicely?" The demon cajoles. "Now we're all back here again."

"Well at least you have a front row seat to what is sure to be the show of the millennia," Alastair smirks at them both. "And you're together of course. Do you think that makes it easier or worse?"

They stare at each other from ten feet away. Regret and sorrow so thick you can almost taste it in the air.

Cas winces when he gets stuck in the ribs with a dark shining blade.

"Knock it off. You're giving me a tooth-ache," Alastair coos.

"Stop," Dean growls.

"Pardon? What was that?" Alastair asks as he twists the knife, making Cas cries out again.

"I said, Stop!" Dean barks. "You wanted me, right?! You got me. You don't need him. Stick me!"

"Hmm…" He watches his father scratch his chin like he's thinking; already knowing he was making it worse. "I guess we should just let him go, huh?"

Dean jumps forward in his bonds when Alastair yanks out the blade hard.

"This isn't your first rodeo, Dean. Don't say stupid things."

Watching Cas groan and close his eyes, Dean quickly asks, "Don't you think you're gonna bring down a shit-ton of angelic fury on your asses?"

Azazel hops up on a bench to his left and stretches out his legs. "Concerned for us? How sweet. Well don't worry that pretty little noggin', buddy boy. I have a strange feeling, call it a premonition, that allll the angels are busy hashing out what to do."

Several black-eyed demons snicker and Alastair snorts. "Arrogant pricks. By the time those bureaucrats decide anything; you'll be a bloody stain Lucifer's walking over.

"How do you know that?" Cas puffs out, weakly.

"A little birdy told me."

"Crowley." Dean's lip curls.

"Nah, he played his part already."

"Why be coy? This is the end of the road, ain't it?" Dean asks.

Azazel shrugs. "I never give away all my secrets. Takes away some of the magic don't ya think? Besides you should be focused on more important things."

"Like?"

"Got a little game for you before the big send off."

Dean is half paying attention as he keeps checking back over at Cas, who sags in his chains dripping blood and grace from several holes.

"It's called Who Do You Love More? I thought it'd be a fun way to pass the time."

"What?" Dean swings his attention back to him with a frown.

"Starring…" he nods at Alastair who slices Cas in the arm and makes him jerk up. "Castiel playing the Lover! And…" Azazel twirls in place ending with a ta-da motion. "John Winchester playing the Father!"

He raises his hands high and the dozens of lackey demons farther back deliver rousing applause. After it dies down, Azazel saunters over to him. "See, its simple, Sonny. We're gonna kill one of them and it's gonna be long. Its gonna be drawn out. And It's gonna be bloody. Now you can either choose to set free your loverwings or dear ole daddy, but you gotta pick one. Thems the rules."

"Tough choice in any young man's life…" Alastair sympathizes.

"Is it though?" Azazel contemplates, scratching his chin. "Blood over Love?"

Alastair grunts. "I'd choose blood."

"You always do." Azazel grins.

Dean's eyes dart between the demons and Cas. "No. I- I can't do this."

"Dean… they'll kill us both anyway…" Cas tries but gets stuck again for his trouble.

"Now, now…" Azazel waggles his father's fingers at Cas then turns to Dean. "Scout's Honor." He even makes the freaking hand sign. "You choose daddy and he'll wake up in his motelroom tomorrow morning. Choose Castiel and he'll fly away to fight again another day. I mean, they're probably gonna need every angel they got once Lucifer's popped his chains, right?"

Dean's face hardens as Azazel walks over to Cas and lifts up his hanging head by the chin.

"I know he looks a little roughened up but don't let that sway ya. Give him an hour, maybe two, and he'll be A-ok. Isn't it kinda your fault he's here? Then again… what life you gonna have with this bumble bee anyway? You think he'll stick around when you're old and grey, visit you at your nursing home window and feed you applesauce? Just look at that pretty mug." He pats Cas' cheek hard.

Dean stares helplessly at Cas, who's eyes are drifting. Glazed. He can't watch Cas die… but his dad...

Alastair drags the tips of one of those damn black DemonBlades teasingly over old wounds, re-opening them one at a time. "Are you ticklish?" he asks Cas idly. "I've found ticklish spots seem to have extra sensitivity to pain as well." Without taking his eyes from the blade on Cas' skin, he calls out, "Where do you think, Dean? Here?" He cuts a shallow slice at the bend of his elbow. As Cas jerks in his bonds, Alastair asks, "Maybe the bottom of his feet?" 

"Why are you doing this?!" Dean yells at the demon, desperate for his attention so he stops. "Why not just torture me?!"

Alastair hasn't even touched him yet, but this has to be worse. Let them slice him open if it'll keep them from cutting Cas one more time.

"We are, Dean buddy." Azazel smirks. "We figured out your soft spots aren't anywhere Al can poke."

Watching him and without looking back at Cas, Alastair pushes the blade in just an inch, forcing a painful noise like a harsh hiccup out of the angel's mouth.

Dean yells out, unintelligible, and jerks mindlessly in his chains.

"Loooove is a many splendor thing…" Alastair sings then continues humming the song under his breath while Azazel claps and says, "So who's it gonna be?"

"I'm not playing your game, Asshole," Dean growls with hate.

"No? Maybe it'd help if you got daddy's thoughts on the matter."

Dean's heart stutter for whatever's coming next.

"Bet it'd go something like this…" Azazel clears his father's throat and when he begins again his voice is deeper, rougher. "You disgust me, Dean." He breaks into a wide smile, eyes flashing yellow before he sobers again. "You're a weak, little bitch."

Dean refuses to look away and give the demon the satisfaction even though the words are validation of every dark, self-loathing thought he'd ever had. It takes all he has, but he stares right into his father's eyes.

He steps back to looks Cas up and down pointedly then at Dean wearing a look of pure revulsion. "You've been letting that thing fuck you while I was-"

"Okay, stop." Dean flicks his eyes past him to watch Cas instead. He keeps his head up and keeps eye contact for him. His eyes are so blue. Focus on that. Not the creepy crawlies he has on the back of his neck.

"You're such a goddamn disappointment. Not even a man. I can't stand to look at you." He sidles closer with each venomous word and Dean waits, breathing out slowly.

"Dean…" Cas calls, brow furrowing as if he was worried about him of all things when Cas was the one full of holes.

"Your mother's dead because of you!" John's eyes flash yellow as he barks from a foot away. The words hurt but he can take them. It killed his mom. It killed his mom. He repeats to himself.

"Stop!" he whines, and as predicted the demon comes closer, wanting to inflict more pain.

"You let them kill her, Dean. You were there. You could have stopped it."

Dean growls and headbutts him when he's at last close enough, stomps on his legs and quickly starts muttering an exorcism. It won't be enough but the way he grimaces gives him a small slice of satisfaction.

Two seconds later, a knife is to his throat biting into the skin.

"That's enough, Dean." Alastair strokes his neck with the blade and steps back again.

He spits near Azazel who's dusting himself off. "You're not my father," he tells the demon. Dean's not sure if his dad would say any of that or not but he's not going to let a demon fuck with him anymore.

Azazel laughs his dad's dry chuckle. "Okay, Son. You don't wanna play?"

He briskly walks over to Cas. Dean has time to yell out his name before Azazel grabs the knife from Alastair and stabs him three times in the side. Not deep enough but it makes Cas scream out. How much more could he take?

After Cas bows in pain and sags once more, Azazel breathes out a sigh and hands back the blade.

"This won't kill him, Dean. Angels are hard bastards to kill…" he cocks his head and his face contorts with ugly smugness. "But kill him we will. And you have the rest of your life to watch it happen." He checks his father's watch. "Which is about oh… 4 hours."

The next few hours is every bit as awful as they promise. He holds his breath through every pain-filled noise Cas makes and waits to see his eyes. Cas always looks back at him, let's him see he's still there… but it takes him longer and longer now.

The demons filling the barn are keeping busy. Some shuffle outside in small groups and return to speak with either Azazel or Alastair each time. A few mix ingredients or chant off and on over some old bone. None approach them, but they do bare witness and seem to take grim pleasure out of the torture of an angel. Azazel taunts Dean while Alastair slowly and methodically covers his chest with new slices. After what seems like hours, they show him the hook and harness they plan to suspend him upside over the chalked symbol and slit his throat at the right hour. Anointing the mark and opening the gate for Lucifer.

It must be close now. All the demons seems to be buzzing with energy and nervous chatting. The two head honchos are occupied watching over a very delicate ritual by the looks of it, repeating carefully words in tandem over a bowl of blood they pour over the bone.

Dean whispers, "Cas… still hangin' in there?"

"I… I am hanging, yes," he groans.

Dean can't even smile over his literal response. Hard to imagine just this morning they'd been kissing, now he was chained across from him, waiting for the final blow. And one of these times, Cas wasn't going to look up and meet his eyes again. "I'm sorry, man. They only grabbed you because of me... Just to hurt me. Goddamn, I'm so fucking sorry-"

"Stop…" he pants and opens his eyes to gaze hazily ahead at Dean. "Even- even knowing it would end like this… I'd still have come to your window."

Dean can only stare into his eyes with regret and wish he'd never come. Never tempted Cas into visiting him and never dragged him into this. Longing passes between them as all the things he wishes he could say to him fly through his mind.

"So I guess this is the end, huh?"

Even if it was, he can't bring himself to say the words. Make some sappy declaration with black-eyes watching them. Cas doesn't answer anyway, letting his head drop again.

"I kept you're stupid feather."

With effort, the angel picks his head up and smiles weakly. "I know."

Dean cocks his head, "Yeah?"

"I saw you with it."

"When you were stalking me."

"Watching over you..." Cas corrects.

Dean grunts and presses his lips hard. "I just couldn't let you go, man. I tried… I wish we had had more time. You and me… I wish I could fix it all."

Cas thinks on that then says, "You told me there was no value in wishing. Wishing does not change anything, Dean."

"For you, I'm wishing."

They smile bittersweet at one another, resigned to their fate.

A female brunette in a grey pant suit walks up to Azazel. "What is it?"

"We haven't heard back from the last group we sent out."

"How long?

"They were supposed to return 10 minutes ago."

Alastair and him trade a look. "They _are_ incompetent," he allows.

Azazel glances towards the moon and then at the group of remaining. There's almost 3 dozen left. "No such thing as coincidences. Alright, grab the boy and get him in position. Gotta be ready just in case. Twenty minutes left... they aren't gonna make it."

Hands grabs him as they unfasten his manacles and pull him toward the hook hanging from a center beam high above. "Dean, say nighty night to your angel."

Dean fights the whole way as they bind his arms with rope, but within only a few moments, he's secured upside down.

Just as the last demon steps away from him, Dean hears a lone bulb pop near him. All the demons turn to look at it, then at their big wigs.

"This is it, Children," Azazel says with his father's voice. Scratching like nails on a chalkboard can be heard as demons all around pull out black blades like the one Alastair has.

He looks to Cas, expecting to have some morbid goodbye, but instead he's... smiling. At least he thinks he is but it's hard to see straight with a headache already forming from hanging on a hook like this. Cas even seems now to push up on the wall and put weight on his legs for the first time in hours.

All the lights dims once, drawing Dean's attention away, then simultaneously every bulb shatters and litters the floor with glass. Cas chuckles and coughs harshly. Demons start getting closer together and looking around wildly.

"What is it?" he asks, blood rushing to his head.

Smiling affectionately at Dean, Cas says, "Tootsie pop."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter will be quicker, my darlings. This is what I had ready and you already waited too long. Enjoy and more to follow soon.


	23. Endings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's a jerk of an arm. A slice.. but he doesn't feel it. Not really. Just a burning across his throat and all he can do is stare ahead at Cas. One last time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To die would be an awfully big adventure. ~Peter Pan

The inside is plunged in darkness, moonlight only filtering through cracks and holes of the old wood. There's a moment of tense stillness... the length of a heartbeat. Maybe two. Then the planks of the ancient barn begin to rattle.

From one strained breath to the next, a lot of things happen at once. Wood splinters from several directions, starting an explosion of noise and light. That weird internal flashing of demons dying starts a strobe show in the dark. It's hard to follow much with the pressure of hanging partially upside-down, most of its just chaotic violence but Dean can hear the shuffling of wings, impossibly loud. Cries. Curses. Bodies colliding in the dark.

Just as his eyes are adjusting in the dimness, he's dropped the 5 feet to hit the cement on his side. Hard. After puffing out a breath, he shifts up onto his elbow.

"Hiya, Barbie." Gabriel smirks down at him looking more like an angel than he's ever seen him. With blood already coating his arms and one of those flashy blades in his hand… he doesn't look like a playful trickster. He looks like a warrior. He snaps and Dean's free of his bindings.

Twisting his wrists to test his ability to move them, he sighs, "Shit, am I glad to see you."

"Aw, I knew you had a thing for me. FYI, bodypaint is not your look," he swirls his pointer finger to indicate the symbol they drew on Dean's chest.

Gabriel glances over at Cas. He snaps and frowns when nothing happens. Tilting his head, Gabriel squints at the bonds. "I can't touch those bracelets of his. Not with Enochian. Hangin' in there, Bro?" he asks, while heading to the table of bloody instruments.

"Obviously. Why does everyone keep asking that?" Cas says in annoyance.

Dean pushes to his feet and strides over to Cas. Without a thought to the bad timing or surroundings, he grabs his face and kisses him in needy relief. Even while Cas makes a small pained whimper from the pressure against his wounds, he pushes back into Dean as much as he's able in his restraints.

Gabriel whines, "Oh come on! I don't need to see that."

Smiling sheepishly against his lips, Dean kisses Cas once more quick before pulling back.

"Heads up, Dean-o." He tosses him his knife from the table. Dean catches the hilt, just as Gabriel gets jumped by two demons. He's torn on whether to go help, but Gabriel seems to be having no trouble dividing his attention between the two.

Just at that moment, Dean really takes a second to see all the damage and destruction at the other end of the barn. It's mostly a mayhem of shadows until a second later one of the angels lifts the tracker in the far corner and sends it flying across the space, taking out a cluster of demons and a portion of the wall. Moonlight floods in and he can fully see the amazing, awful sight. It's like something from one of those old painting hanging in Rome. Angels versus Demons.

"Whoa…"

Angels fly and barrel into several demons at a time. Black luminescent blades clang with silvery bright ones. Spinning whirling bodies of men and women… angel and demon. Grunting. Crying out. Dying. A large male grabs a petite black-eyed female by the neck and stabs her through the gut. Her eyes flash once, then he tosses her aside and moves on to the next fight. The good guys seems to be outnumbered three to one at least but the angel's are standing their ground. One, a lithe female with long dark hair, is whirling gracefully and holding off four demons at a time, managing to deliver a quick killing blow and keep moving. A dark-skinned male flies straight up with two demons hanging around his torso then rolls mid-air and dives hard at the ground.

"Dean!"

He quickly turns back to Cas. "Right, sorry."

After slicing off the first manacle and catching Cas against him, he reaches up and begins to cut the other when he's yanked back by a fist in his hair. His knife clatters to the ground.

"No!" Cas screams at him from his knees, reaching out with his one hand but he's still held to the wall by the other.

Another arm comes up in front of Dean's throat, cutting off his air. He reaches back and tries to grab onto his attacker, but gets a slice to his cheek. The black point of a demon blade near his face is all he sees. Alastair mutters foreign words quickly and passionately behind him. He realizes the symbol is below them when it starts to glow faintly. Shit, he was still trying to do it. Right here and now with the angels and demons fighting and it wouldn't matter in a minute. Dean twists and fights and kicks to push them backwards with every ounce of his strength he's got but it's not enough. A demon would always be stronger.

Everything slows down, the moment seeming to last forever. Cas yelling and scratching at the ground to try and get to him. The arm of the demon from his nightmares tightens higher, forcing his chin up.

A final harsh word…

Then there's a quick jerk of motion.

A burning across his neck…

And he's finally let go.

Dean falls forward onto his shoulder. Someone's blood washes the floor below him, soaking his jeans. Light flares up from the floor but his mind doesn't process what it means. Nothing seems to be matter. Nothing around him touches him anymore. Cold sweeps through him like a wave that will carry him away. A second, two seconds, and then his vision fades to grey and he only focuses on the sound of Cas' voice, calling for him. He thinks. Or maybe someone else. Doesn't matter. Over and over. So loud. Cas. And he knows it'll be the last sound he hears… his angel...

But he's wrong.

Warmth begins to fills his throat. It races down his neck, through his stomach to uncurl and course the length of his body. It eats at the cold and then chases it away like he's thawing from the inside.

A voice penetrates the grey fog. "Sorry, my baby brother's rather fond of this one."

A few seconds more and he's coughing hard, staring at the different kind of grey. Cement. He has to blink at the bright light emanating from the symbol underneath him until it starts to get duller and duller… eventually vanishing completely.

The hand, he only just realizes was there, releases his throat. Head spinning, he takes a few shaky breaths, and looks around in confusion. He should be… he's pretty sure he was dead. Or about to be. Alastair's nowhere to be found. Cas is slumped heavily on his knees in relief and weakness. Tears streak through the dirt and blood on his face. Dean finally cranes his head upward to see that Billy Idol V-necked bastard smiling down at him. Dean feels his neck cautiously but there's only wet cooling blood. No wound.

"You… uh, you?" He can't seem to get anything more intelligible out.

Balthazar pats his shoulder once, then hauls him to his unsteady feet and shoves him towards Cas. "Yes, yes. Saved your life, averted the apocalypse, stopped the ascension-"

"You couldn't have made it before he slit my throat?" Dean grunts, barely resisting hugging the guy. Maybe later when there wasn't a battle out of Paradise Lost, he'd dish out a lot of hugs.

Picking up his knife, Dean quickly frees Cas before anything else can happen in the melee and holds him tight to his side. Cas latches onto him and closes his eyes, resting his forehead to Dean's temple. He allows himself a few seconds to enjoy this, the comfort of Cas' heat and familiar sweet scent pushing away some of the fear over what just happened. Okay, maybe they had time for this one hug.

"I was hoping we'd be back here far earlier, but convincing the cavalry of urgency was just hours of fun. Uriel was predictably no help. Once I knew where they took Cassie here..." Balthazar trails off, looking him up and down and gently grabs his shoulder. "You've looked better."

Cas finally pushes back from Dean and stands more solidly on his own. "It was necessary. And I will heal." Balthazar smiles with strain and nods.

His wrists are burnt and bloody from whatever that oil shit was. Dean checks his many wounds. They still look awful but at least the blood and blue light is only trickling now. And Cas said he'd heal. He had to believe that. Wincing in sympathy while Cas inspects a gaping hole, Dean asks Balthazar, "Thought you were dead?"

"So did they. Morons." Balthazar's smile turns grim as his eyes find the body of a dead angel lying on the ground with a burnt wing pattern of ash around his body. "Wings or it didn't happen," he sighs.

Glancing at Cas one last time, his brother turns and attacks the nearest demon with determined aggression.

Dean takes in their surroundings. Cas was already leaning into him a little more. He had to get him out of here. It was obvious he needed somewhere safe to heal. Hell, _he_ shouldn't even be here.. when angels and demons were duking it out, how the hell was he gonna measure up?

Mentally planning their escape route through the fighting, Dean asks, "Gonna make it?"

"Yes," Cas winces. "You weren't supposed to be here."

"Huh?"

"They came for me. We planned for Balthazar to get assistance once he observed where they were taking me.. you weren't supposed to be here."

Dean frowns back at him. "So what, you were just gonna give yourself to them so you could- damnit Cas! What if they'd killed you before he could rally the troops?"

"This was more important than me… than any one angel."

Dean glares at him in disbelief. He wasn't just any angel. Not to him. He was… more. Sometimes it felt like he was the only thing there was.

"But not more important than me, huh? You can go off and throw yourself to the wolves while I stayed at home twiddling my thumbs?"

"Dean.." he says, sighing in pain and Dean looks around for threats."If I could have avoided this… I wish I could have told you."

"Yeah yeah. Look, we'll have time for me to bitch you out up and down about this later. You hear me, Cas?"

Right now, he has to concentrate on getting out of here. But he'd be damned if they went through all this and just said goodbye. They would have a later. Him and Cas.

"Yes," he sounds too tired.

Dean tries his best to shuffle Cas around the outskirts of the fighting, heading towards the huge open hole in the barn wall.

"You see where our two favorite demons went?"

"No.. Balthazar threw Alastair off you to save you in time. Azazel, I have not seen since the beginning."

They're almost there. They're gonna make it. Maybe ten feet away and a body smashes into him out of nowhere, sending him falling backwards on his back. The demon that jumped him struggles to claw at his face, but stops in surprise when light sparks behind his skin. Dean jerks his knife out of its gut and pushes the body off. Looking around, he sees Cas kicking a demon off for only a moment before Dean has to pay attention to fighting off the next attacker. That one takes several minutes to get his knife arm free and deliver the blow. Getting to his feet, his heart sinks. Twisting, he realizes he's lost sight of Cas. Shit shit.. he pushes someone out of his way and scans the room again. Finally- fuck! No!. Across the barn, Alastair has him, holding him up by the shirt while he's talking, smiling, blade about to descend to his chest. Cas' face is shocked and he's not even trying to fight back. What's wrong with him? Damnit, he won't make it in time.

In desperation, he holds up his knife, waits a brief second to make sure he has a clear path, then throws it hard, just like his dad showed him.

It thuds perfectly right in his spine.

By the time he crosses the distance, the demon is on his knees, staring up at him. Shock is in those bugged out eyes, long face seeming longer with his mouth open.

"Told ya."

He watches the light go out with perverse satisfaction. And just like that… Alastair was gone, and this time he wasn't coming back. No matter how many times he imagined how this moment would feel… it didn't really change anything. Relief that he'd been in time was trumping any vindictive joy he might have gotten out of it. Dean turns back to Cas.

He's not looking at him. Or the battle. Not even looking at Alastair's body. He's staring down at his hands, but not really like he's seeing them. Like he's dazed or something.

"Hey.." Dean checks him over for some big wound to make sure he hadn't actually been too late, but it's just the same ones he cataloged earlier. They actually look a little better, no longer dripping. "Hey, Cas, you alright?"

Cas doesn't look up, but says softly. "No."

Then within a blink, he's gone.

"Goddamnit!" Dean pushes his way back towards the wall. Where the hell had he gone now? He's hurt, he's out of it or something and.. yeah he's an angel but they could die.. There were several burnt wing patterns around bodies to show that. He needs to find him. Gabriel's in the distance with his hand on a demon's forehead. Whoa, hadn't seen that trick before. Focus. He's gotta get his knife. It's still stuck in Alastair. He turns from chasing after Cas blindly and heads back to the body.

Alastair's still there but turned on his side. His knife is missing.

Shit.

Dean reaches down to pick up one of the silvery angel blades nearby so at least he has something. He hears his boots scuff almost too late.

Turning quickly, he throws a hand up and barely catches his dad's wrist in time. Azazel grits his teeth as they struggle holding onto Dean's weapon hand as well. The demon gains ground and pushes the knife ever closer to his chest. "You don't get to walk away twice, my boy…"

Dean grunts with the effort to keep his hand from completing that downward thrust. Yellow eyes flash in his father's face and he grins wider.

"You couldn't just die, could you, Sport?" he spits out the words with an ugly sneer. "For that... I want you to know, no matter how long it takes, I am going to find your little Sammy. It'll be slow, Dean. I'll rip the skin right off his body, make him eat it, then the muscle, then.-"

"No!" Dean growls and surges forward, not even feeling the knife stick him. His shoves his blade into his father's shoulder and he cries out in pain and anger.

Azazel's falls to a knee. He steps forward to jam it home but hesitates when he hears his father's voice. "Dean, please!"

In the time it takes him to think about it, Azazel flashes him a smug smile and yellow eyes and with a roar of black smoke.. he's gone.

Coughing and taking a breath, John gasps deep.

"Dad?!"

"Why didn't you kill him! You had an opening!" he shouts then falls forward, hand bracing himself up on the cement.

Typical.

Dean gets down on his knee to help him sit.

"Yeah and it woulda killed you too!"

When Dean pulls his hand away, it's covered in blood.

"He already did."

"Dad?!" He mind is slow to catch up and figure out what's happening. Blood soaks his dad's shirt fast. It begins to pool beneath them. All that shit with Azazel trying to get Dean to pick someone. Cas or his dad… he'd already made sure John Winchester wouldn't be surviving this game.

"You can't…" John groans and closes his eyes. "You can't pull back next time."

"Hey! Fucking angels! Anybody! Get your asses over here!" Dean yells frantically. None of them even glance their way, attention on their own fight.

"Dean," he calls his attention back. "What it said…" he looks back down at his dad. Gasping faintly. "You're a good son…"

Dean briefly thinks of all the hateful things Azazel said. Agitated, his dad clings to him with white-knuckles, struggling to get a lot of stuff out. "I was.. was… you had to be strong. I- I had to..

Swallowing the hurt and isolation from his father through these past years, Dean looks him in the eyes and says, "We're good, Dad. I understand."

Nodding weakly, he smiles and calms…starts closing his eyes. Dean holds his father with his knife out but there's no further attack. The battle is dwindling down to the last few straggling demons who haven't fled. When Gabriel gets to him, he takes a moment to stare down at his father before shaking his head. Dean nods and stays there a few minutes more, holding his dad like they never held each other when he was alive.

+++ +++ +++ +++

Castiel searches through the battle outside. He hasn't seen him yet, but he has to be here. Somewhere. Castiel stabs a demon that comes at him and immediately goes back to searching the tree line where a few angels are attacking demons that had tried to retreat. There. Flying in a blur, he's within a few feet from him suddenly.

"Uriel!" he spits out with such emotion it hurts.

Pushing a demon off his blade, Uriel turns and stares at him. Stock still, they face each other.

"Deny it," Castiel says with pain in his voice, eyebrows wedging together. Alastair's venomous mocking words repeat in his head.

Uriel lifts his chin and takes a second to look around. Everyone is involved in their own conflict., but the demons are only fighting two for every angel now. Soon it will be over.

"Betrayer!" He accuses with disgust.

"To whom, Castiel?" Scoffing, Uriel cleans his blade on his shirt and steps over the dead demon. "Do not speak of things you know nothing about."

"You were helping them free Lucifer!"

"I was helping them free our brother." He steps closer with a hand up, as if beseeching him to understand.

Castiel shakes his head in disbelief.

"It would have been better, Castiel. He would have lead us, truly lead us. None of the bickering and squabbling. No longer watching over our father's aborted creations. We would have been so much more…"

"And the humans? We are supposed to be protecting them. How many innocents were killed for this? How many _would_ have been killed?"

Uriel's lips press into a grim line. "There are no innocents, Brother."

"I am no brother to you." He takes a breath that feels like a sob as he fists his hands and makes himself ask the rest. "Dean's mother was innocent. You.. you told them where they were, didn't you?"

Uriel sighs with rolls his eyes. "Dean Winchester… Of all the humans festering on this planet, why did you have to choose that one?"

Alastair's words circle his mind, making the bile and blackness rise inside him. Uriel found John Winchester, the hunter they wanted with the son they needed. Uriel told them where to find Dean. Uriel found Dean… because he had followed him. It was Castiel's fault. Everything.

"I'll tell them." He squares his shoulders and makes himself stand straighter."Michael, Raphael, Bartholomew, all of them!"

Uriel chuckles low, shrugging his massive frame. "And who are you to them? A rebellious little runt who defiles himself with a human..." Shaking his head slowly, he flips his sword in his hand. "I'll try to make your end quick."

Dean drags his father out of the burning barn. The Angels set it ablaze after the fighting finally stopped. Death and blood clung to the air, making him cough into his shoulder. When he's twenty feet away, he finally slumps onto the ground, setting the body of his dad beside him. He stares at the blood, his slack face, his leather jacket he let Dean wear once when he was 11. They had been out bowling with his mom. She was only 3 months pregnant with Sam… Sam. Jesus, he's gotta tell Sam. He's gotta go to Ellen's. He's gotta-

A sharp cry has him to his feet and stumbling towards a crowd of angels. They started gathering in a loose circle around something. Someone. Fighting. There's still a demon left?He can see past them that's it's that asshole Uriel, yelling downward at someone.

"You are damaged." His arm descends to punch someone. "You are weak." He kicks them on the ground. "And you are inferior." Panting from exertion, he looks up and calls to the on-lookers in a louder voice.

"Our brother has been driven mad. Demons have tortured him. Corrupted him. Broke him. Now he turns on us."

Dean pushes close enough to see who he's talking about. Cas. Groaning with his eyes closed and on his back. Uriel sighs and grips his blade tighter. What the hells going on? Panicked, he realizes there's no Gabriel… no Balthazar. It's only a bunch of unfamiliar stony faces watching.

"Demons have already killed our brother; it's time to end his suffering." He looks down, "I really am sorry… "

"Hey!" Dean yells, without a plan in his head. "Leave him the fuck alone!"

Uriel turns back to see him and his whole face blankets with hate. "You." He growls the word. Stepping over Cas' limp body, he stomps forward. Shit. Angels step away from Dean and he clutches his knife. It won't be enough. "I am finally going to-"

With a harsh cough, Uriel's mouth falls open in shock. He looks down at the tip of one of those silvery blades poking out of his chest.

"No. You're not." Castiel whispers into his ear and pushes him away.

As Uriel falls, the angels all collectively gasp and take several steps back, a few taking to air. An outline of burnt ash spreads to show wings. Several more show up to stand around while the ones in flight take off towards the angels back at the barn.

He locks eyes with Cas, not having a clue what was going on or what might happen next. The angels around them make no noise as they all stand too still, watching but not making a move toward either Uriel's body or Cas. For a moment, Cas' eyes flick past him and he realizes he sees his dad. Brow pinched, he barely gets out the whine, "Dean…" before he collapses. He tries to rush forward, but two of those silent bystanders grab his arms and keep him there.

"Get off me!"

Balthazar is suddenly brushing past him and bending to Cas. Then Gabriel appears at his other side. They each put an arm under his. He looks up dazed and seemingly surprised to see them. He begins muttering frantically to Gabriel, words tumbling out of his mouth with his eyes shut.

Still tugging futilely to get his arm free, Dean notices Michael walking towards their little group. He's giving orders to an angel he calls Hester. "Consecrate the ground and ensure all the hosts are incinerated completely."

Coming to a halt only a foot away from him, he takes his sweet-ass time evaluating Dean before nodding to the angels holding him. They release him instantly but stay in his path. Without even glancing toward his father's body, Michael crisply says, "I am sorry for your dead."

"Shove your sorry up your ass. Is Cas alright?" He tries again to go to him but is stopped by a firm hand on his chest. "Fucking move it or lose it, buddy." It's almost painful to stand there calmly and wait for another goddamn nod from Michael to make this blank-faced bastard step away.

"Castiel is no longer your concern. You will not see him again, Dean Winchester. In fact, I doubt you will ever see another angel in your lifetime," Michael says looking at both Gabriel and Balthazar then nods at them.

"No, wait!"

Gabriel gives him a regretful shrug before picking up a now unconscious Cas, slinging him over his shoulder and kicking into the air. Balthazar picks up Uriel's lifeless body and follows, only looking back at him for a quick second.

"You can't just-"

Michael's gone by the time he turns back.

Within a few moments, each angel takes to the sky and from one breath to the next, he's left alone next to a burning barn. No angels. No demons. No Cas. And a dead father.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you reading, commenting, and kudoing, my darlings. Three chapters left. I hope you are enjoying. We're drawing to the close... but we have a little while longer together. (o:`,


	24. Revelation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Do not worry, Castiel. We will correct the wayward path you've taken.

"Cas!" Dean screams at the sky.

He looks around wildly, too much happened in too short a time to be suddenly just alone. The barn burns steadily to his right. Despite the warmth emanating from it, he feels too cold, the wind hitting his bare chest. He watches it burn for maybe another minute like he's in a trance before he shakes his head and digs the heel of his palms into his eyes. Pain pulses dully in his shoulder from the jab he got knocking his father- knocking _Azazel_ down. He ignores it and the breakdown he wants to have. He's got shit to do.

Sucking in a deep breath and pushing it out in a huff, he lowers his arms.

Okay. They're far enough out in the middle of nowhere that it'll be a while before anyone sees and reports the smoke. He has time. He sure as hell can't carry his dad all the way to the Impala. He's surprised he managed to get this far and is exhausted. Mentally, physically, fucking not touching emotionally at the moment. Focus. The Impala… they have to have it around here somewhere.

Dean hesitates but after another breath, looks down. His skin's turning… fuck, start moving. Gotta do this. Get it over with. He squats next to his dad and barely seeing him, pats his jean pockets, then fishes inside of his jacket until he finds the keys.

It only takes him a few minutes to find her, stashed in the woods near a dilapidated old house of whoever must have lived here forever ago. Dean gets in the car and has the instant urge to drive off. Just leave. Go to Sam. Ellen. Jo. Bobby. Cas' name flashes in his head and he shakes it.

He has to do it. His dad made sure he knew how for a reason.

Throwing a hand over the back seat, Dean pushes down every thought he has and tries to set up the next part in steps. One thing after another so he doesn't have to think about what he's doing. Wood, salt, fire, then he can leave. He backs the car up all the way back to the body.

After he's broken off enough wood from the section of the barn not touched by the flames yet, Dean stacks it as best he can with his good arm, his shoulder making each movement excruciating, but he ignores it. Ignores everything except what task he has to do next. He unlocks the trunk and grabs the bag of salt. Once he has a thick ring around the makeshift pyre, he sets it down on the ground.

Biting his cheek, he squats down again and begins to go through his father's pockets. Sets out his wallet, lighter, knife, colt… he quickly checks the barrel. Two bullets left. There'd been four when he'd last seen him. It musta been some fight… before they got him. Dean smiles bitterly, shoving it in the back of his pants and swallows the burn in his throat. Finally, he gently pulls his arms free of the jacket.

Suddenly there's nothing else left to do. But the hardest thing. He drags his dad by the arms over to the wood. Bending down he gets an awkward grip under his waist and sucks in a breath at how it feels like he's hugging him, then heaves him up onto it. A few seconds to reposition him right - because it had to be right- and without taking his eyes off him, Dean picks up the bag to pour a line from his neck down to his boots. Tossing the bag aside and with one last stray plank of broken wood, he lights it from a corner of the barn, the heat hurting his face. By now smoke billows high into the dark sky and he coughs hard several times into his shoulder. Dean doesn't even glance at the stacks of bodies inside. He has his own dead to take care of.

Arm shaking, Dean watches it move like it's not part of him, lighting several spots. His eyes sting as he stands there numbly and waits to make sure he catches. That he'll burn. He could do this right. He'd failed, didn't kill their demon... but he could at least give his father his Hunter's Funeral.

Sniffing unconsciously, he waits. Longer than he should. When the police and fire trucks come he can't be here. Not next to a barn full of corpses.

He shrugs on his dad's jacket to cover his bare chest with its bloody symbol, flaking now. Can't do much about blood on his hands. He feels like an impostor in it, but its fits. Taking a corner at the bottom and rubbing his fingers over the worn leather, he thinks about how he never woulda dreamed it'd fit when he was 11.

When he can't see his dad anymore, Dean picks up the wallet, lighter, knife and throws them in the trunk, immediately slamming it shut. Turning his back on the pyre, he gets in the front seat and starts driving away. As fast and as far as he can get.

+++ +++ +++ +++ 

"Dean?" Castiel calls with his eyes closed. He groans and shifts as he comes back to consciousness. He has to hang his head and gather the energy to lift it. His body has almost healed itself but he's still weak. He must have been very close to death.

"I don't think so," a female voice tells him.

He frowns, blinking and tries twice before he can prop himself up on a shaky arm. Squinting around in confusion, he realizes he's lying on a long white couch, in a room with opaque glass panels. The sparse furniture is soft gray as is the carpet and walls. Everything is bland. Neutral. Sterile.

He's been here before.

"Welcome back, Castiel."

The voice pulls his attention to his right where Naomi is sitting crossed legged in a stiff chair, hands clasped in her lap. Naomi. She was no warrior. She hardly ever left… she might never have. He takes a moment to feel the overwhelming warmth of his brothers and sisters grace all around him - calling out to his own.

He was back in Heaven.

Castiel forces himself to sit straighter and not lean back like he wants to. He can't show weakness right now.

"Dean."

The small barely there smile on her lips never wavers. "You already said that."

"I need to see him."

"You _need_ to see me."

Shaking off the last of the fog in his head, he gets determinedly to his feet. Thankfully, they support him.

"No," he says, ready to leave.

There was suddenly no door when he turned around. Each wall looks the same now, making it feel more like a prison. Not that this room was never meant to be welcoming. Naomi just patiently waits for him to assess each wall, looking for the exit she was hiding from him but he was either still too weak or she was too adept at it.

Sighing, he finally turns back, "You don't understand."

"You're right. Help me to understand, Castiel." Her tone is maddeningly calm and he begins to pace angrily as he talks.

"Dean's father is dead! I need… I need to go to him." He remembers all at once the bitter truth of Uriel's betrayal. Speaking outloud without realizing it, he whispers, "If it wasn't for me… Uriel would never have-"

"Yes, tell me about Uriel."

Brow pinched in anguish and gnawing guilt, Castiel frowns and looks back to her. "He was a traitor. He was working with the demons. Did Gabriel not tell you?"

"Gabriel has spoken more than once on your behalf with that silver tongue of his."

She sounds unimpressed and Castiel begins to realize the gravity of the situation he is in. He's in Heaven. He's talking to Naomi, not Michael. He killed another angel.

"I had to do it."

She raises a perfectly arched eyebrow. "For this Dean."

Castiel tries to weigh each word carefully, Naomi watching him closely.

"Uriel would have been sentenced to death, once his crimes came to light."

If his crimes came to light. Had Dean not distracted him, more likely Uriel would have killed him and managed to claim it was _Castiel_ that was twisted by the demons. But reminding her of their ignorance at this moment was not wise.

Face turning a little harder, Naomi leans just a few inches closer. "So you did not kill him for a human then?"

This was it. What she wanted to know. What she wanted to trap him in. She would sense the falseness in any statement and he could not hide. Closing his eyes, he condemns himself with the words. "In that moment, it did not matter that he was a traitor. I killed him to protect… my human."

The quiet in this constructed space is harsh and stifling. In the distance, his sibling's voices chime together like sweet bells but the pleasant noise isn't welcome and he shuts it out. Finally he sighs and opens his eyes to judge her face.

Naomi tilts her head and leans back again. "And therein lies your ruin. It's the chink in your armor. You are a soldier, Castiel. _Our_ soldier."

She gets up and straightens her suit jacket primly even though it's unnecessary.

"That you killed a traitor, you did well. That you did it for one of them…" she goes around to chair behind her desk and sits, folding her hands on the surface. "You cannot serve another above Heaven. Perhaps you will come to remember that in time."

The words send a spike of panic in his heart. "Please. Can I… allow me to say goodbye to him. I won't interact with humanity again. I'll do as requested. Go as directed."

"No. I'm afraid that won't be possible. It has been decided that you will be undergoing Revelation."

The cuff on his arm burns and he hisses as he covers it with his hand out of reflex. When the pain fades, he slowly drags his fingers over it to see a dark tarnished red instead of gold.

Helpless and feeling a burning in his eyes, Castiel balls his fists so he doesn't lash out. Attacking her won't change this.

"Please." He has to say it even though he can tell by her smug twist of lips that there is nothing he can say that will sway her.

"So you see, we have time to talk about your burdens. Do not worry, Castiel. We will correct the wayward path you've taken."

+++ +++ +++ +++

Dean drives for two days, nothin' but highway and flat plains on each side. He's driving blind without a direction or intent. His thoughts circle like vultures taking bits out of him over and over. He's lost everything. He failed, let Azazel get away, had to burn his dad, lost Cas… He doesn't even know if he's alive or dead. Dean prays to him, Gabriel, Balthazar, over and over and over again. Screams at them for answers but no one ever comes.

On the second night, he finally pulls off the road and drinks half of the bottle of Jack he got last time he fueled up. In-between sips, he mumbles things to his angel.

_Just tell me you're alive._

_I burned him, Cas. It's what he always told me I'd have to do but shit…_

_Goddammit, this can't be it._

_I mean, I fucking died… right in front of you. If it wasn't for that Billy- fuck, if it wasn't for Balthazar… and no one would have been around to salt and burn me._

_Where the fuck are you?!_

_Please, Cas. If you can come… please…_

Thankfully, he eventually stops his pathetic begging and passes out into a fitful sleep. When he comes to with massive headache, sun blaring in east, he reluctantly shifts to a sitting position. He stretches the collar of his shirt to check the stitched mess he made of the cut in his shoulder. It'd scar but what was one more?

Rubbing his face, and taking a deep breath, Dean turns over the engine. A few more seconds, and he pulls out onto the road and starts back in the direction of where he needs to be.

When Ellen opens the door, her smile lights up her whole face in obvious surprise. He hadn't called. He didn't know what to say or how to say it. After she gets a good look at him, the happiness slides off and away. He continues to just stand there, eventually hanging his head. Ellen presses her lips tight and steps forward to take him into a hug. His arms hang loosely at his sides, but he leans in and lets her squeeze him tight.

"Well, come on, boy," she sniffs, pulling back. "Get inside. You're home."

+++ +++ +++ +++

"Tell me about Anna."

"Anna?" The jolt of pain at hearing her name brings Castiel out of his thoughts. Dean had been praying to him again. Dean. He heard his voice and it was bittersweet. The anguish in it was awful, making his wings twitch with the need to go to him. But he had to sit here and endure while Naomi talked at him.

She gestures to the vial of grace that glows dimly inside his shirt. "That is what I believe you called Anael."

"She has nothing to do with this." Castiel says, with annoyance he can barely keep contained. He didn't want to be here any longer. He wanted to listen for Dean again, it was hard to concentrate on her seemingly aimless questions and hear him.

"This will be easier when you stop fighting me."

"I am hardly fighting you," he glares at her. He bit his lip to refrain from asking if she wanted to see what fighting her looked like.

"You were very close to this sister in particular."

He squints at her with wariness. "Yes."

She nods with sympathy he knows not to trust. "She fell when you were a fledgling. That must have been very traumatic for you."

Castiel grits his teeth and looks away.

"And now I understand she is dead?"

"Humans die," he says evenly but still unable to meet her eyes.

"Dean will die." That has him whipping his head back but she only smiles and continues, "He is human after all."

His muscles stay tense. Was she threatening him?

"Let's talk about the battle over Lucifer's cage. Several angels were lost."

"Everyone would have been lost if Lucifer was set free!" He gets up angrily and paces again, unable to sit calmly. "As it was, Balthazar barely arrived in time. Alastair cut Dean's throat! The prophecy would have been completed if-"

"Yes, the prophecy. You knew of it."

"Of course," he growls. "I told Michael as soon as we knew."

"Ah." She nods as if she's thinking and it feels as though she has lured him into a trap. "Did you not think that if you were to kill Dean preemptively…"

Naomi lets it hangs in the air.

"No."

"Yes, Castiel. If Dean had been killed the moment you knew of this prophecy, many of your kind would be alive right now. There would have been no chance for the demons to get as far as that night. No goat, no sacrifice."

That's all Dean was to her. A sacrifice that the demons were squabbling over and he was obsessed with. Castiel sinks back onto the stiff chair. "May I see Gabriel?"

"Have you ever considered falling?"

The question takes him completely off guard and though he opens his mouth twice, he eventually closes it without answering. Instead he wraps his wings around him, and stares at the opposite wall. Any answer he gives... if she asked him as early as a week ago he would say no and have been able to mean it. Now… he can't answer. If he does then she will want to explore that further. Explore the feelings and reasons and thoughts that lead him down that road so _they_ can correct him. He cannot talk about this with her - about his connection to a human that made him think of it. Fleetingly. But still he thought of it. He resolves not to answer her again, but wait quietly until she dismisses him.

+++ +++ +++ +++

"Was it quick?"

They sit side by side on the weathered picnic table in Ellen's backyard. Dean stares at his hands clasped tight over top his bent legs.

"Yeah. Real quick. He didn't feel it, I don't think."

Sam was quiet most of the last half hour, only throwing out questions every few minutes as seemed to think of them. It was hard to talk about it, but once he got this out, he didn't plan on ever talking about it again.

Sam looks up and asks, "He say anything? I mean, at the end?"

Dean clears his throat and quickly says, "Yeah. Yeah... he said to look out for you and that he loved you a lot."

Sam snorts and shakes his head. "Liar."

Dean sighs and licks his lips. "Like I said it was real quick Sammy."

"What did it?"

"Don't worry about it. I'm gonna handle it."

"Was it demons?"

Dean turns to him quickly. "Where the hell did you hear about demons?!"

"Jo."

"Awesome," he rubs his eyes and breathes out tiredly. He needed sleep.

"I asked Ellen about mom… the real story. So yeah, I know about them. I'm not a little kid anymore Dean."

He's right. He's not a kid anymore. When Dean was busy fighting off the monsters in the dark, Sam had grown into a preteen. He'd blink and he'd be a teenager and so on until he was married with a family one day. It made him feel a hell of a lot older than he was. He felt ancient at that moment.

"You're right. You deserve the truth."

Sam nods and sits a little straighter.

"Yeah, it was demons."

"Are they gone?"

"Not all of them. Not yet. But like I said, I'm gonna handle that."

"Why?!" Sam shouts from next to him, startling Dean a little more awake. "Why can't you just stay here!"

"Sammy…"

"Dean, you're just gonna go off and get killed! Only no ones gonna show up to tell me! Why can't you just stay with me. Live a normal life for once?"

"Because I have to make it up to dad! I had him, Sammy. I missed my chance."

Sam screws his face up in a petulant frown and picks up a stick next to him to start whacking idly at the table.

"And because if I don't… he could come after you. Or Ellen. Or Jo. That's how these sonofabitches work. We'd always be looking over our shoulders."

Ellen's at the back door. She waves once when he catches sight of her and walks away.

"C'mon, let's go get somethin' to eat."

Sam throws the stick away and vaults off the table. Dean steps up next to him and hooks at arm around his head to pull him into a loose headlock as they walk. He pushes back at first but when Dean holds him tighter, Sam encircles his waist and stops them both. They stand there together like that for a long time.

Dinner is domestic. Comfortable. He feels out of place. Jo's boyfriend Ash is a new addition. He's a weird squirrelly dude that's some kinda techie genius and rocks a mullet. Jo glares daggers at him when Dean says he digs his haircut. The family dog, Bones, is a big happy presence at his knee begging with big sad eyes for a scrap. It feels like a family. Pouring drinks, passing food back and forth, talking - idle stuff, nothing too heavy. Nothing about dad. He wouldn't mind this. For a while. Maybe he'll stay. Just- just until he can lace back up his boots and grab his knife. Maybe… just for a while.

Dean volunteers to wash dishes, because after almost an hour he needs a little room from the domesticity.

Jo saunters in and grabs up a dishtowel to start drying dishes. "You alright?"

Dean shrugs and tries to smile. "Cute boyfriend. Real xfiles weirdo vibe he's got going on."

"Uh huh… shut it." She bumps his hip.

"No really. And the hair… brave choice."

Chuckling, Jo says, "Well I'll hold my breath that you'll be bringing around some lucky girl for me to make fun of."

Dean pauses washing and she sobers. "Sorry, I shouldn't be joking right after-"

"No, it's not that. I, uh.. " He puffs out a breath. Imagining Cas here with everyone, sitting at the table next to him was just stupid. That'd never happen even if he did ever come back again. "Nevermind, I'm happy for you, kid."

Jo slides him a look considering. "Did you actually have something serious?"

Dean doesn't look at her but concentrates on scrubbing. "I don't know what it was."

Cas had been always on the outskirts of his life since he was 12 whether he knew it or not and it'd changed him. Even though technically they'd only had a few days together, it seemed like so much longer. So much more. It that moment, he'd been a little bit happy. A little less numb. But Cas was probably back where he belonged so what was the fucking point in getting all weepy about it?

Patting him on the shoulder, Jo says, "Well screw her. If she couldn't see-"

"It was a _he_ , Jo." Dean says it quick because he can't take lying about Cas. Even letting the assumption slide, he can't take it.. not with the loss of him still so fresh. It'd feel like something petty to cling to letting Jo believe it was some girl he'd got hung up on – a small betrayal to him.

Jo's eyebrows arch almost comically high. "Oh."

Dean grits his teeth and grins awkwardly. "Yep." He washes the same dish another time just to have something else to look at.

"That's cool."

Dean snorts, daring to glance at her. He can tell she's stumbling over what to say next. "You gonna be weird now?"

"Nope. Zero weirdness." She looks at the ceiling and thinks. "Well okay a little weirdness but I'm steadily moving past it."

"Good," he grunts and finally hands her the plate. "Now make yourself useful."

After making the call to Bobby, Ellen sets him up in the den. It was a hard conversation, but it had to be done. It was the last person he had to inform of John Winchester's passing. Now he could try and shove it deep and as far away from where it could hurt him as possible.

The den has a couch, blankets, an old box tv. Not bad. He turns onto his back with a hand under his head and stares at the ceiling in the dark. He won't pray to him. Not tonight. Tonight he'd be stronger, damnit. Either Cas wasn't… wasn't able to see him or he didn't want to. Ripping himself up over this wasn't gonna make it any easier. It doesn't stop him from saying his name out loud before he rolls over and tries to fall asleep.

+++ +++ +++ +++

Gabriel perches on the roof of the neighboring house, sucking a grape blow pop. Candy wrappers litter the surface around him. He watches all the lights go off in the house where Castiel's hunter is sleeping.

He seems to be staying here for the time being. When he hunts, it's only a town or two away, always back before nightfall. He's not going after Azazel. That's good. Smart hunter. Maybe he'd live yet.

A few hours and several types of candy later, there's a flap of wings and a gust of air. Michael lands next to him, causing Gabriel to internally groan.

"Have you caught our brother's infatuation with this human? It did not end well for him."

"Nope. Just taking in the sights."

"So you are reducing yourself to a Guardian then? You are a warrior, Brother. Why are you watching over Castiel's pet?"

"Last I checked, I wasn't supposed to be on patrol."

"No."

"Then I'll enjoy my 'me time' if you don't mind."

Gabriel smacks his gum loudly hoping it will annoy Michael enough to leave him in peace.

"They've allowed him amongst the host again."

Gabriel sighs exaggeratedly without looking at him, finally saying a begrudging, "Thanks."

Michael is gone as quickly as he came leaving him to his vigil. Gabriel watches the quiet house for another hour, then goes to see Cas. He finds him in a tranquil garden, sitting with his arms encircling his bent knees on a step near at the edge of a pond.

"Hey, jailbird," he says too upbeat. It sounds off even to him. "Heard you finally got set free."

"She will call me back again."

"Ew. More face time with the queen of killjoys. Lucky you."

When Castiel doesn't respond, Gabriel digs in his pocket and tosses him a starburst. It bounces off his brother's chest, getting no reaction.

"C'mon, at least talk to me."

"I'm tired of talking."

Gabriel shifts his weight and rubs his neck. "He's okay, you know."

Castiel finally glances up at him. "You've spoken with him?"

Gabriel winces. "No. Dean-o is officially on a no contact list for angelic visitors."

Castiel bows his head again.

"But I went and checked up on him a few times."

"What was he doing?" His brother asks staring at the water, dragging fingers through it.

"Hmm, let's see. Throwing a football with some kid-"

"His brother. Sam."

"Yeah, well mostly doing normal non-hunty things. Think he might have given up the nomad life."

Castiel feels a pang at the thought of Dean easily slipping back into a normal life with his loved ones. It's confusing because he should want Dean happy with his family. "I'm glad."

Gabriel squints at the red cuff. "So it's official? They uh... they really did it?"

"A century."

Gabriel sighs and sits heavily next to him.

"I suppose I was fortunate. We did have some time together before… this."

"Some sexy time?"

Castiel frowns at him. "It wasn't about that. It was more than that."

Gabriel knocks his wing with one of his own. "Yeah, I know."

"Who has been placed in our- in your garrison?"

"Hael and Rebecca."

"Hael? She was a fledgling."

"Yep. Balthazar's her mentor."

Castiel twitch into almost a smile. "Really."

"Yep." He makes the 'p' pop.

"Poor Hael."

Gabriel chuckles.

"I think the worst part of this is that I will be mourning him long after he forgets me. Long after he dies."

"Hey hey, who could forget you. You're adorable."

"I am not," Castiel rolls his eyes at his brother's words.

"I mean, sure no sense of humor. Like nill. But at least you got your looks-"

Castiel shoves him so he tips and falls over a bit into the pond. He smiles for only a breath then his face falls again.

Gabriel snaps and is dry before he squats next to him again. Scooping up a handful of pebbles, he begins to toss them at the water so they hop and skip in ways that aren't natural.

After several minutes, Castiel whispers, "Thank you."

"For what?"

"You know what…" giving him a sidelong glance, he finishes, "watching over him."

Gabriel shrugs. "I was in the neighborhood.

+++ +++ +++ +++

He settles in after a few weeks. Every day hurts but he fakes it for his brother. Some days he feels it more than others. Spending time with Sam helps. This is the most they've seen each other in a long time.

One particularly hard day, Sam gets home from school and finds Dean in the den holding a black feather. He must have been caught up in a memory for too long and staring at it because he doesn't try to stop him reaching up and touching it.

"Cool, is that from a blackbird?"

"Hey!" Dean grabs it from roughly out of his hand.

Sam mumbles, "Uh.. sorry."

Closing his eyes, Dean shakes his head and tries to sound natural. "No, it's fine." He carefully places the feather back in his bag out of sight.

"What was it from?"

Dean debates for a second, trying to settle on an easy lie but then the truth just spills out of his mouth.

"Angel."

Sam's eyes pop wide. "No way!"

Dean sits back down heavily on the sofa. "Yep. There's angels, just like there's demons."

"They've got black feathers? I thought angels were supposed to have white wings."

"Well this one had black, I guess..."

"What are they like? Do they have halos? Harps?"

Dean snorts. He'd asked Cas where his toga, harp and halo were the second time he saw him. "Nah, they're actually kind of a bunch of assholes." Rubbing his neck, Dean amends, "Well mostly. Some of them aren't too bad."

His mind flits over Gabriel cutting him free when he was upside waiting to be sacrificed, Balthazar bringing him back from the edge of death, Cas… Fuck, just Cas. He's unresponsive for too long and Sam slides his attention to the newspapers he has spread over the coffee table. He picks one up Dean had been looking through earlier.

"What're all these for?"

"Oh, uh it's how I find cases."

There was a possible salt n' burn job a few towns away that looked promising. Nothing too far. Not yet. He'd have to move on soon, but not yet.

Dean took a few minutes to show Sam the signs of a case versus and what was probably human stupidity. One guy falls on his table saw, accident. Four guys die by power tool malfunctions… it's a case.

"Wow…" he seems impressed and it makes Dean a little proud to have his little brother's admiration… until he follows up with, "when I'm older, I'm gonna be a hunter."

"What?" He yanks the newspaper out of Sam's hands. "No, you're freaking not! Sam, dad didn't do this- I didn't do this – just to lose you the same way. You're gonna go to high school, have a first crush, a prom and mushy butterflies-in-your-stomach love with someone."

"Dean-"

"Then you're going to college, get some fancy job… you can be anything and you're gonna have it all, damnit!"

"And you?"

"What?" Dean tries to get control of his voice and stop barking but it's an effort.

"What about you? You don't get all those things. Why do I?"

"Because you're different." You're better, he thinks to himself.

"You deserve all that too! Mushy butterflies and stomach love, and-"

Dean bursts into laughter and Sam punches him in the shoulder. They wrestle for a few minutes until Sam wiggles out of a headlock and shoves him away, laughing a little breathless.

"I mean, you should have good stuff too, Dean."

He shrugs and gathers the newspapers up. "It's not all bad."

Sam's frowning at him in a way he can tell is gonna mean trouble for him.

"Dean, I uh wanted to ask you about something."

"Shoot."

"I overheard Jo telling Ellen you had a… someone."

Dean flushes. Freaking teenage girls.

"Yeah." He grunts out, not facing him. He busies himself messing with putting the newspapers in his duffel.

"Are you ok? Maybe they'll… if you're upset about it, why not try to get back together?"

Dean squeezes his eyes tight and tries to push down the bitterness. When he turns back it's with a forced smile. "Yeah, maybe. Thanks, Sammy."

Feeling awful afterwards and with the sounds of Sam's shoes still thumping upstairs, Dean rips the feather out of his bag and crushes it in his fist. Almost immediately, he smoothes it back out in desperation. It's fine again. Like it always is.

Pinching between his eyebrows with two fingers, Dean closes his eyes.

_Ya know I kept thinking 'after.' After we killed the demons. After the dust settled. After this was all over… I didn't think the last time I'd see you would be like that. All bloody and half-dead being carried back home. Thought we'd have a goodbye at least. Or… Godamnnit Cas, fuck you for making me feel like this all over again. And fuck me for letting you._

+++ +++ +++ +++

"My darling brother. Do you plan to spend the entire century by this dreary pond?"

Castiel glances up at Balthazar then back to the still water. "I like it here."

"Yes, I can see that. Are you still going to your little therapy sessions?"

"Naomi is… persistent."

"Among other things." His brother shakes his head and pulls out his blade to flip it idly in the air. "Taking away your travel privileges wasn't enough?"

"Apparently she is helping me. She reminds me of this often."

"And pray tell how is Ms. Pencil Pusher helping you?"

"We talk."

"Oh this should be good. About what?"

"Anna. Dean. Uriel. You. Gabriel. Michael. Dead angels. All the wrong choices I've made and how I might have chosen otherwise."

"Wow that really is like therapy."

"It's painful."

Balthazar is silent, not seeming to know what to say next.

"Last time, it was about his family."

"Who's?"

"Dean's." Castiel stares at the glassy water, jaw tightening. "The demons found them because of me. Because I couldn't stay away from him and- and it was my fault."

"That's on Uriel, you idiot. Don't let her cake on anymore guilt. You already-"

"Stop."

"Cassie…"

"Gabriel told me you are instructing Hael."

Balthazar seems torn but lets it go, like he knew he would. "Yes, I would be delighted if she'd stop being so wide-eyed about things like the majesty of a fire-hydrant." After a moment he allows, "I suppose her youthful exuberance is not that awful, just tiring."

When Castiel only hums noncommittally, Balthazar glances around at the isolated quiet. Fidgeting. He doesn't seem to do well in the tranquil atmosphere. "They all ask about you, you know. And the human you killed for. You're quite the item of gossip."

"None will approach me. I'm more of an oddity than ever."

"Well I know we're not the one you want, but you always have me and Gabe to pester you."

Castiel watches the shadows from the sinking sun stretch over his bare feet. In a few minutes, the day will start a new and be bright and cheery. He likes that moment in this Heaven the most. The grass seems so vibrant and the noises from birds and insects that have long been dead fill the air.

If Balthazar is still next to him, he doesn't know. He should really make an effort to listen to his brothers when they visit him but it's easier to sink into himself and listen for Dean's voice.

"He still prays to me." Castiel says with a hollowness even he can hear. "They're mostly angry, confused words all in a rush, but I wait for them." He looks up at his brother's concerned expression then back at the pond. "I don't know how I will endure this once the prayers stop." Castiel lets the quiet grow between them, reaching up to clasp the vial of grace hanging from his neck for comfort. Absently he asks, "Do you think it hurt?"

"Did what hurt, Cassie?"

"When Anna fell?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, two more chapters to go. Still with me? Next chapter won't take two weeks. Pinky promise. Hopefully it'll only take a few days. Thanks as always for reading and your thoughts. It helps more than you'll ever know.


	25. Goodbyes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I guess I just needed you to hear it. Just Once.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So wow this is going to be a looong chapter. Also it occurred to me recently that I have several readers from other countries. If you ever don't understand a slang phrase Dean uses, feel free to [message me on tumblr](http://zombeeblackcat.tumblr.com/) or comment your question and I'll explain it for you. 
> 
> Thank you so much for the love and support for this story. I don't deserve you.

Balthazar finds Gabriel as soon as he leaves Heaven. He's watching over Dean Winchester, like he'd suspected he would be.

"He's been praying to him," he begins in greeting before his feet even touch the roof.

Gabriel sucks around a hard piece of candy without taking his eyes off the house. "I know."

"And Cassie's beginning to talk about falling."

"I know."

"Well don't just sit there so damn calmly, Gabriel!"

"How would you like me to sit?"

Balthazar kicks a small branch off the roof and rubs his temples. "Why can't he just leave him alone?"

"Once you've been touched by an angel…" Gabriel snarks but without any of the amusement the remark should carry.

"You do realize he's going to break eventually. That five o' clock shadow on bow-legs is going to lure our brother right off his cloud."

Gabriel doesn't answer him. He continues to stare ahead, slouching, with folded arms resting on his knees.

"Maybe…Just thinking out loud here, but if the prayers stopped tempting him..." When his brother doesn't flinch, Balthazar adds. "If Dean were to die…"

Balthazar tilts his head back and forth considering out loud. "Hunters die all the time. It is after all a very hazardous line of work." Shrugging gracefully, he finishes, "Perhaps then he could finally move on and stop holding a torch for this one."

Sighing, Gabriel stretches out his legs and agrees, "Hunters do die all the time."

Balthazar glances at the house considering a long minute then back at Gabriel who holds his gaze steadily now. After a moment, he puffs out a defeated breath. "Oh hell, I don't think I can kill the little bastard anymore."

"Yep, I know."

"Ughh!" Batlhazar drops to perch next to Gabriel and rests his forehead on the heels of his hands.

"You think I haven't thought about it every night I'm up here?"

"Well that's wonderful. What are we going to do about Cassie then? We can't just let him-"

"There is no _let_." Gabriel shakes his head and glares at the dark house where Dean's asleep, sucking harder on the candy in his cheek. "Freewill's a bitch, Bro."

+++ +++ +++ +++

Dean prays. Still. Without anything from Cas since he was carried off by Gabriel that night… still he prays. Sometimes it's just like he's thinking out loud. Like he's just sending thoughts out into the void and it helps clear his head. About his day, about Sam, about random memories of different hunts. About questions he has but never asked. Why are his wings black? Would Dean's dad be in Heaven? Where is Heaven? What's it like? What does an angel do up there? Where's Hell? Did he ever try pie?

It's Dean's end of the night ritual along with the occasional jerk off. He's lonely and where usually he would just go find someone warm and willing to help lessen it for a while, now he can't bring himself to go back to bar fishing. Not yet. Eventually his heart will catch up with his brain and realize Cas is gone but until then he takes the problem in hand.

He always starts with flashes of what they'd done. Dean closes his eyes tight and Cas is holding his hips in place while he bucks forward or losing his control for an instant and scratching then it morphs into different scenarios of all the stuff they never got a chance to do. Him straddling Cas, lowering onto him while holding his wrists down or maybe even Dean on his knees. It makes him flush in embarrassment and anxiety but that's pushed aside by arousal at the thought of how Cas would make those deep noises in the back of his throat while looking down at him. And maybe put a hand on the back of his neck and groan so fucking loud and-

He wishes he was stronger. Wishes the pain and emotional shit was enough to make him not want to think about it, but he hasn't had sex in months. And his body isn't numb enough not to want it again. Not to want Cas again. Once or twice when his eyes were squeezed shut and breath hitching, he wasn't sure if he didn't think Cas' name and shove some obscene image at him. After a while he doesn't care.

He's getting sloppy. He feels it. It takes more and more of the bottle after those nights to find sleep. After the good feelings fade and he's left alone missing someone it's fucking ridiculous to miss, self-loathing rushes in and he feels like complete shit. The morning afters are getting less fun for everyone so he tries to stay out of sight in the den until he's out the door and headed on to the next case.

After another month of radio silence, he's hunched over a tabloid story of a man being eaten by his cocker spaniel when Ellen snatches the paper out of his hand.

"Hey!"

She tosses it on the coffee table and crosses the room. "Get up."

Dean shields his face when she parts the curtains to let the blaring sun in.

"Damnit, I am up!"

He leans back into the couch as she stands in front of him with hands on her hips. "No, you're nursin' a hangover. Again."

"C'mon, leave it alone, Ellen," he groans.

"I won't. This is my house and you're gonna listen. Now, I know you've had it a hell of a lot harder than most kids your age-"

"I'm not a freaking kid for Christ's sake!" Dean yells, shooting to his feet.

"Sit. Down."

Dean rubs his face, trying to stave off the headache at the quick movement. "You just told me to get up."

Ellen gives him a stern look and he drops back down. She sits next to him and sighs. "You can't keep this up."

Dean looks at his feet. Maybe he'd throw up. It wasn't the worst way to get out of this conversation.

"I'm not one to speak ill of the dead…" Dean tenses up as Ellen continues, "But you're a better man than your daddy."

He clenches and unclenches his fist to distract himself from the pain of thinking of his dad. And now what she was implying. Sitting here, drinking away the pain. Pushing everyone away. It was apparently the way the Winchester men coped.

"Talking out your problems don't seem to be your strong suit but I want you to give it a try."

"What do you want me to say? Dad's dead. I still have to track down the thing that did it."

"Dean, you don't have to take up your father's obsession."

"Yeah I kinda do."

"You know we love you, boy. I hate to see you drinking yourself stupid every night like you're workin' up to goin' over the cliff."

Dean doesn't look at her, just hunches his shoulders. After a moment of him not filling the silence she exhales harshly out her nose. "So what's the other reason you're drinking?"

"I need another one?"

"I've seen enough drunks to tell when you're drinking away a person."

"Yeah well there's no one."

Ellen tilts her head trying to catch his eyes. "You sure?"

Dean sucks in a breath and runs a hand down his face. "Look, I know Jo said something about me and… someone, but it was nothing. He's gone."

Ellen doesn't gasp or tense in shock at his use of pronouns. Jo obviously told her it was a guy. Instead she seems natural when she gently asks, "Did you love him?"

"What?" he blinks at her.

"It's not a hard question."

"Uh.."

Actually it was. His brain scrambles as he stares off just over her shoulder, thinking of it. Did he love Cas? He's not even sure what that means. Yeah, he missed Cas. He hurt from missing him so much but was that love? During the big fight, when he thought about them afterwards, it was together. They'd have time to get to know each other completely. More than all the fun parts on the outside. As sappy as it sounded in his head, Dean wanted him to know everything inside too. All the ugly stuff with the good. Wanted him to maybe even meet Sam one day. Dean's lips are drawn up in a soft smile thinking about Cas tracing his scars while he slept. And that'd been a miracle on its own. He let himself become vulnerable enough to sleep with someone else there.

Cas had been the only one Dean had ever truly wanted. Anyone else- everyone else- had merely been something to enjoy and move on. Cas had made him want more.

"That's what I thought." Ellen swats his leg. "So go get him."

"It's uh, it's not that easy." He shakes himself out of his memories. "I don't even know where he is."

"You're a Hunter ain't ya? You're telling me you can't track down one ex-boyfriend?"

Dean frowns at her, actually thinking about it. She pats his knee. "Now go get a shower before I take you out back and spray you down with a hose."

+++ +++ +++ +++

Even though he'd had his eyes shut tight for half the journey with Cas, Dean still filed away details. It was something he could never turn off. His dad had burned into his brain early on to always be collecting data in case he needed it for later. It could save his life.

Picking out landmarks he'd spotted along the way and taking into consideration roughly the speed Cas was flying and beginning from that hotel as a starting point… he's able to find the spot in a little over two days.

Dean pulls up the Impala on the outskirts of a wide open field in Enid, Oklahoma. It was about a twenty minute drive from the nearest town. It'd taken him over half the day of driving around a bunch of similar grassy fields before he found the right one. What he thinks might be the right one. He's pretty sure anyway. Only one way to find out.

Dean walks far into it, remembering him and Cas were about here. He covered Dean's eyes, whispered words in that gravelly voice.

"Cas?!" He calls out, spinning slowly without seeing a change in the field. A treehouse full of angels doesn't magically pop into view.

Dean wedges his hands in his pockets while he thinks of what else to do. He shuts his eyes, trying to remember Cas' words last time he was here.

_Focus on forming a picture in your mind._

Taking a deep breath, he clears his thoughts.

_Now when you turn around, you will see a large tree…_

His face scrunches up, trying to remember the rest. Something about it being thick with a lot of branches.. then.. oh yeah, then the next part was about how the tree sorta looked like the one him and Cas got sweaty against when he was a teen.

Dean concentrates picturing that tree, furrowing his brow and turns around. When he opens his eyes, he jerks back, hand falling instantly to the hilt of his knife because there's a young girl standing about five feet away watching him with her head cocked to one side. She has long dark hair pinned back from her face, blue eyes that evaluate him with open curiosity and a familiar twitchy noise coming from behind her fitted beige pants and white blouse. Wings. She had wings! Dean quickly notes the silver cuff peeking out from under the sleeve on her right arm.

"Why are you here?"

Dean swallows and straightens up, dropping his hands to his sides. "I, um.. Cas- I mean Castiel." It's all he can think to say. Her eyes darken with recognition.

"You are Castiel's human."

"Well, I'm Dean. I uh-"

She reaches for a blade, silvery and clanging in warning. He throws up a defensive hand while reaching for his own knife again. "Whoa whoa."

"You are responsible for his banishment to Heaven. How dare you return-"

"Hael."

Gabriel suddenly appears behind her, fingers wrapping around her shoulders. "Retract the claws there, kitten."

"But he is-"

"And I'll handle it."

Pursing her lips, she continues to keep him in her sights as she takes a few steps backwards. "I will have to inform Michael of his presence here."

"You go do that, Cupcake."

Dean raises both his eyebrows and slides his knife home before turning back to the angel in front of him. Gabriel looks him up and down before shrugging. "Sorry, she's a little high-strung."

"Do I gotta worry about you too?"

"Nah, I've put aside the idea of killing you- well I wouldn't say a _long_ time ago but let's just say you're safe. From me at least. Not the smartest idea to come a house callin' though."

"What else was I supposed to do? You and Balthazar never answer. Cas… what the hell happened to him? That Halley chick-"

"Hael"

"Yeah, well she said it was my fault he got banished?"

Gabriel smiles tightly and glances back at the now visible tree. "Look, officially I'm really not supposed to be talking to you."

"Well do something unofficial, goddamnit! I can't take this, man. I gotta know if he's okay."

"He's okay," Gabriel says immediately with a hardness to his tone now.

"Okay?"

"Dean-o. Buddy." Gabriel takes a threatening step forward. "You really need to get outta here."

"I'm not going anywhere until I see him."

"First you said you wanted to know he's okay. Now you want to see him."

"Yeah, I'm greedy like that."

"Hmm, I was going to call it selfish." Gabriel scrunches up his face, faking remorse.

With great effort, Dean closes his eyes in an attempt to keep his voice calm. "I didn't come here to fight with you."

"Look, you had some fun together… rekindled a little childhood romance, kinda died once or twice, fought through an old fashioned demon brawl and got the t-shirt. Now it's time to grow up, kiddo. Did you really imagine this having a happy ending?"

"I want to see him," Dean repeats.

"Well you can't!" Gabriel yells in his face and shoves him about six feet into the air so he lands hard on his ass.

Coughing, Dean turns on his side and slowly gets to his feet while keeping an eye on the suddenly dangerous angel. He's the one with closed eyes now and muttering.

"What-" Dean spits blood from where he bit his lip when he landed. "What are you doing?"

"Oh, I'm counting to ten so I don't kill you."

Sucking in a breath, Dean brushes dirt off his sleeve. "Well take your time then."

He doesn't go for a weapon like every instinct telling him to. If Gabriel really wanted to go after him, he didn't have anything strong enough to make even a dent.

Finally the angel breathes out through his nose.

"So where's-"

Dean's stopped by Gabriel's index finger to indicate one minute while he rummages in the pocket of his pants for something. Untwisting a wrapper, he pops what looks like a Werther's Original in his mouth and sighs through his nose with his eyes squeezed tight. Then he stows it in his cheek before speaking. "Michael wasn't lying. You're not gonna see him again. He's under house arrest."

"But he didn't do anything wrong! Uriel was kicking the shit outta him. He would of freakin' killed him after he took me out. Don't you people have any rules about that?!"

"I'm not going to sit here and try to debate all the ways this is screwed to Sunday. Point is, it's done."

"Well let me talk the head honchos. I'll explain it."

Gabriel full on belly laughs, holding his sides and spits out his candy. Then he looks up at Dean's stony face. "Wait, you're serious?"

Dean looks up at the clear sky and around at the empty field. Finally he shrugs and folds his arms. "Tell whoever's up there that I'm not leaving until I see him. So they can either come down and have a pow wow or send him instead."

"Really? That's your plan." Gabriel rolls his eyes and smiles once more in indulgence before just walking away. Over his shoulder he calls, "Well have fun. It'll be a long wait."

After several hours when the sun sinks and there's no activity from the angel's treehouse, Dean walks back to the car. He flips the collar of his dad's leather jacket up and tucks it tighter around him against the chilling air. Folding his arms, he rests his head back on the seat.

_So I saw Gabriel. Dude seemed pissed. Think I ruffled his feathers. And I met uh Hill? Hael? Yeah, she was real friendly. Don't think they like visitors much._

Dean thumbs his sore lip. Maybe they'd send another angel out here to finish him off once and for all. This was a little crazy, trying to get the attention of angels to make demands. What if they just moved their little base camp without him knowing and there'd go his last lead. Fuck, this was a stupid idea.

_I don't know what I'm doing, Cas. But I had to do something. Are you really stuck up there because of me?_

He watches the silhouette of the tree in shadow now and remembers another tree so long ago when him and his angel were pressed tight against hard bark.

_Well you can't just accept that. Don't give up. There's gotta be a way. As much as we've been through- there's gotta be something, man._

Stubbornness alone is keeping him going. Even knowing the next angel that shows could wipe him out, he wouldn't just let Cas go. Not yet.

It feels like he barely closes his eyes when Dean blinks slowly and turns to his right to see a woman sitting with one leg crossed at the knee next to him in the passenger seat. Her light brown hair is tucked behind her head in a tight bun and dressed as if she's ready to go off to work downtown in an office. Guess it didn't take that long to get their attention after all.

"Not my usual spank bank material," Dean jokes to cover his anxiety. He hated this dream shit they pulled and it was claustrophobic to be trapped in the front seat with one of them even if it wasn't real.

She smiles tightly. "We haven't been introduced. My name is Naomi."

"Wow an angel with a normal name. Must be why you're a big wig."

"Why are you here, Mr. Winchester?"

"For Cas. If he's in trouble 'cause he took out that asshat, Uriel, you gotta know he was getting beat to within an inch of his life. Had nothing to do with me. It was self-defense."

"We know all about Uriel's collusion with the demons. Why does this concern you exactly?"

Oh. He hadn't really known he'd switched sides. He'd just kinda assumed Uriel went batshit. Mentally changing gears Dean says, "Okay… so Cas did you a favor, right? Why's he on lockdown? I wanna see him."

"I'm afraid that won't be possible."

Dean wedges his eyebrows together and glares at her. "Why not?"

Taking a moment to evaluate him, she seems to be considering whether to answer. Eventually she answers, "Not that I need to tell you any of this, but I believe we can be of help to each other."

"Doubt that."

"You see its Castiel that has decided it's best if he remained in Heaven. There is no 'lockdown' as you put it."

"You mean you guys decided. He wouldn't have left like that on his own and never come back. You're punishing him because of me."

"Punishing him? I am merely helping him re-adjust to his role. I admit at first he fought me, but now he understands how his relationship with you has been detrimental to his growth as an angel." Naomi looks out the windshield at the dark sky and casually says, "I understand you were… _close_ but Castiel needs to be with his family now." When she turns back her voice is firm and she finishes, "You need to let him go. Stop praying to him. I would appeal to your concern for his well-being."

"Well-being," he laughs out once in disbelief. "Why the hell do you guys care about us? What's it matter to you what him and me do?"

"You are dangerous."

Dean gives her an offended look. "I'd never hurt him."

"But you make him forget his pragmatism. You cloud his judgment."

"You're all so scared because I make him feel something besides blind duty. There's nothing wrong with that."

"It is a gateway to doubt."

"Maybe he should do a little doubting. He's more than a soldier, lady."

"Doubt usually leads to... _disgrace_." It's obvious the word means something particular to her.

"What the hell are you talking about?"

She exhales angrily through her nose, showing a crack in her cool exterior. "I know you are waiting for him to return to you and I admire your faith, I do… but I'm afraid Castiel has made his choice. Leave now."

Dean tilts his head and squints at her. She frowns under the scrutiny.

"Nope." He shifts back against the seat and stretches out again like he was when he went to sleep.

"Excuse me?"

"I'll wait to hear it from him."

"That will not happen. As I've said, repeatedly…"

Dean closes his eyes with his arms folded, blatantly shutting her out. "Yeah, you can leave now."

His heartbeat thuds in his throat, waiting for an attack or something. He was banking on it being against some rule for angels just to smite him on a whim. Regardless, he wasn't budging. They were going to have to drag him away because this was all he knew to do. He couldn't go after Cas. There was nothing to shoot. Nothing to torture. All he could do was be a pain in the ass and hope.

A sharp squawk from a bird overhead wakes him up with a jolt. Looking around quickly, he doesn't see her. He's alone. Dean slowly closes his eyes again against the morning light, feeling just a fraction better. He was almost positive now this was out of Cas' control. Without stopping to think about his words or pausing to edit them, Dean starts. Quick and breathless.

_Cas…I know they're keeping you away. That uptight chick tried to say- doesn't matter. They can send every angel they got… unless you tell me to fuck off, I'm gonna still pray. Still hope. Man, come back to me._

He almost stops it there but adds one last thing.

_I need you._

+++ +++ +++ +++

"Insolent… Abrasive…"

Castiel smiles to himself and ducks his head as Naomi paces in front of him. He'd heard the prayer from Dean so he knew very well who she was muttering about. Dean seemed to have a knack for infuriating his family.

_I need you_

It's the first thing to make him smile in what feels like a very long time. Dean is reaching out. Even if it doesn't change anything… it still makes his lips twitch in warmth.

Time moves differently in Heaven. And he only measures it now in the length between Dean's prayers. Recently, they've become more and more frequent. Less angry… softer. It's almost worse because it means Dean hasn't given up hope yet. Soon enough they'll return to the bitter words like before or possibly even stop. Until then Castiel will selfishly wrap his voice around him and escape.

Naomi whirls on him.

"You are amused?"

He smoothes his face immediately. "I am never amused here."

"Castiel." She steps closer. Measured. "I want you to visit Dean."

He's on his feet in an instant. Visiting Dean. "Really? You will let me-"

"I will let you give him closure."

"What does that mean?"

"So that you can firmly severe your attachment… I want you to tell him you are choosing to stay apart from him."

"I won't."

"I know he continues to pray to you. Still. This is not working. He needs you to say the words. And I believe you need to say them. Perhaps then you can return to the fold. Come back to us fully, Castiel. Begin to reform."

"I won't lie to Dean. I'm not choosing this. I would be with him now if I was able."

She turns her back on him, agitated, then after a moment asks, "What if he knew you were to blame for destroying his family?"

His heart gives a stutter, mouth falling open.

"Would he pray to you then do you think?" she questions, turning to face him again.

"No," he answers softly. Dean would hate him.

"Then tell him. He needs you to say it."

Perhaps it would be a good thing in the end. If he truly wanted Dean to be happy, then Dean would need to move on. It was selfish to hold onto him for his prayers. If he could set him free… if he could at least set one of them free... And he didn't want Dean to remember him with hate in his heart, which he had no doubt Naomi would make happen if he didn't go.

Despite all this, he stills says, "No."

"What?"

"If I see him again, I won't be able to leave him."

"Castiel, do you understand, I will- "

"Do what you must but I won't go to Dean just to hurt him."

"Can you not see this is for your own good?! I am trying to save you from yourself!" She's showing more emotion and anger than he's ever seen. Naomi is used to being obeyed without question but in this she needs his compliance. And she cannot force him.

He remains silent but features blank in response.

Naomi lifts her chin in something close to disgust. "Very well. Run back to your garden, Castiel. I'm done with you for now."

Swallowing, he turns his back on her quickly. His heart is racing from expecting more of a fight. Grateful, he leaves Naomi behind and crosses to his sanctuary. His feet land in the plush grass and he sighs in relief. It's almost feels as if he's returning home. Late afternoon now, the sun is softer and it's a little colder than he remembers it being.

Castiel stops in his tracks when he sees someone is already sitting at the edge of his pond. It's not this heaven's occupant. He is far off on the other side of the garden and he never comes near the pond. It's not Balthazar or Gabriel.

As he approaches warily, the figure turns.

"Dean?!"

Frozen, Castiel stares in a mix of horror and elation. He- he can't be here. It's not possible. Is he dead? Even if he was dead he can't be here. Not in this Heaven. Not with him.

Dean gets up to his feet without saying anything and simply smiles at him.

He looks beautiful in the sinking sun. He'd be beautiful in any heaven. In every heaven. Castiel's body moves towards him of its own volition. Just one kiss then he'll find out the how's and whys because Dean is here. In front of him. Finally.

Castiel gasps and stops short when Dean jerks violently, eyes widening. Blood rushes out of his mouth, down his chin as he sinks to his knees.

"No!"

When he's only a foot away and almost able to catch him, Dean disappears. He stares down at the spot where he just was, watching the blood fade and be replaced by the same perfect grass.

It takes him the brief time of the sun sinking and coming up again before Castiel is filled with livid anger, realizing what that was.

"Naomi!"

She walks out from behind a wall of tall scrubs, clasping her hands behind her and watching him, dispassionately. "Humans die."

"We are charged with protecting humanity, and you threaten one?" He's shaking with the malevolent need to cross the distance to her.

"I will do what is necessary to save one of my own."

"Are you threatening him?"

"Are you going to go to him?" she deliberately counters.

Castiel grits his teeth and closes his eyes. Visions of attacking, stabbing, seeing the grace burn in her eyes are almost overwhelming.

"Okay," he says, before he can act out any of them.

"You'll do it?"

"Yes!" he growls angrily.

"We'll be listening."

They didn't allow him to leave Heaven. He only got a dream. But that would be enough. He has a few moments before they bring Dean to consciousness within the illusion to watch him. Beautiful. Just like in his garden but where that Dean was just a lifeless copy, this one has his shoulders slumped. The real Dean always seemed to almost physically carry his burdens.

Crickets chirp in the evening twilight making it seem peaceful. Dean has his eyes closed, enjoying the quiet. Castiel wishes he could just stay like this and continue to watch him. He's sitting on a picnic table.. most likely belonging to the people he lives with now. Gabriel described the house and its possessions for him whenever he asked. He asked too often.

Feeling strangely shy now, Castiel softly calls, "Dean."

He looks over his shoulder slowly, eyes widening when he sees him. "Holy shit!" Dean crosses the distance too quickly and is just suddenly embracing him with arms clutching him close. Too close. Too intimately. He can feel him smiling into his neck. It makes Castiel inhale sharply but he manages to at least remain stiff in his arms.

Pulling back, Dean keeps a hand on his shoulder like he needs the contact. "You alright? What they been doing to you? What-"

"Dean, I can't stay long." He has to make this quick or else he won't get it out.

"What are you talking about? You just got here."

"I only came to tell you… what you said you needed me to say."

Dean frowns and drops his hand.

"You'll… you are…. Dean, you'll never know what you've meant to me."

He takes a full step back, withdrawing. "But."

Castiel shifts his gaze back to the picnic table. "But I told you it was only until we killed Alastair."

Dean watches him steadily and he knows he needs to meet his eyes to make him believe… but he can't. It's hurting his heart too much.

"They're making you say that. This Naomi bitch and whoever else up there pulling your strings…"

"No, Dean. This is my-" he flicks his eyes to him then away again unable to watch his face. "This is my choice." It feels bitter to say it but he makes himself continue. "This is what is right. You need to form normal human attachments. You need a normal, _human_ partner."

"Then you shoulda never asked me what a kiss was, Cas. You fucked me up for normal ever since then." Dean steps close again before he can prepare himself for it and cups his face to bring their foreheads together. And he lets him. Dean holds him there and Castiel has to close his eyes in something like anguish. To be this close…

Distantly he hears the rumbling crack of thunder in the dimming sky. The dream. It's a warning. He has to make him believe. Say the words.

"It was wrong of me to ever visit you. I see that now. Dean, please… I need to go."

"Don't. Stay," Dean whispers. "You know this is right." He catches his lips and Castiel tries to jerk away but Dean fights to hold him close. "Even when everything else turned to shit… this was always right. Nothing's ever been right, but you. Don't you fucking tell me you don't feel it."

Castiel slowly leans his face just that inch closer to touch their lips together again. Just once. One last time. Dean hums against his mouth and eagerly pushes back. He forgets himself for a moment in tentative rubbing of their tongues and the graze of teeth catching his lip but when another loud boom of lightning hitting closer, he winces and finally forces Dean firmly away before he completely gives in.

"I'm sorry. I can't do this. I don't feel what you feel."

"Why are you saying this? Why aren't you trying? I fucking know you're lying." When Cas won't meet his eyes, Dean blows out a breath and pinches the bridge of his nose. "So what, you're just gonna stay up on your cloud? You said you liked it down here."

"I belong there."

"And you're never- I'm not gonna see you again? You can do that?" Dean accuses him.

"I need to. It's what best. For you. You'll see that eventually, Dean."

"Damnit Cas. Then look me in the eyes this time. Look at me and tell me you don't feel something for me and I'll leave you alone."

Castiel stays immobile staring at the ground, toes sinking in the false grass and feeling the pressure of the words. No matter how he wishes, they can't stay in this dream. It would break apart soon. This was his one chance to make Dean move on. To protect him. Even if he didn't understand, this is how he would show his love. He would give Dean up.

Lightning strikes a tree in the distance and he closes his eyes in defeat. They could easily strike Dean like that tree. Gritting his teeth, he crosses the distance and steps too close to so that Dean takes a step back in surprise.

"I don't feel anything for you. I don't want you. I enjoyed you, as I enjoyed other humans but in the end it will always be… insufficient."

Dean tenses, but Castiel walks past him before he has to see the expression on his face. He stops a few feet away, glaring at the dark sky. The storm seems to have cleared; he must have done well he thinks bitterly. It feels vile and wrong to purposely prey on Dean's insecurities and to allow him to think he's like the few humans he coupled with. He knows those are Dean's own doubts being voiced back at him. It was a betrayal but Castiel knew it was the one way- an awful way- to make him stop. Stop hoping, stop trying, stop wanting him.

A dull ache begins being his sternum at those thoughts and he can't help turning back. Dean's still facing away, head bowed slightly.

He can't do this.

"Dean.."

Just when his resolution weakens and he's walking forward to take back every horrible word, lightning hits right above them and the dream shatters, forcing him back to his place in Naomi's office.

"That will do, Castiel."

"Let me go back." His stomach turns, that can't be the last thing he says to Dean. "Please. You have to let me go back."

"I don't think so. That was the right decision. You did well… now your human will go on to live his life. It's how it should be."

If she says anything else, he doesn't hear it. He flies hard and fast to a far corner of Heaven. It's a forest with thick trees growing together and damp leaves blanketing the ground. He slams against the side of a redwood, cracking it in two. His fingers bleed as he strips the hard bark off another and upends a third. Everything just heals and rights itself no matter how much he destroys. When he's exhausted and gasping from the mix of blood and grace leaking from his wounds, he curls into a ball and tries not to think of anything. Especially him.

+++ +++ +++ +++

Dean stares numbly at the keys in his hand. It was time to go. Cas didn't want him. No matter how much his gut wanted to tell him it was a lie, the words were just how Cas knew to cut him. There was nothing left to do… but go.

He's only been driving a few minutes before he pulls off the country road to an abrupt stop. The engine ticks for a few seconds before he gets out, jerkily unlocks the trunk and grabs the tire iron.

Pacing next to the car, he suddenly grips it tight in his fist and slams it down onto the hood. The dent isn't even close to satisfying. He tries the windshield, then the driver side window. It takes another window and few more dents in the side until he can stop and throw the tire iron far away from him. Bunching his fingers in his hair until it sent tingles of pain through his scalp, he finally slumps down against the side of the car.

He sits like that for a long time. And after rubbing his eyes over and over with stiff fingers and sniffing he gets to his feet.

It was time to go.

When Dean shows up at 7 at night and walks past everyone eating dinner to go straight to the den, no one says anything. They all give him space and he sleeps. He sleeps all night and most of the next day. No angels show up in his dreams this time.

The following week, Dean spends fixing the car. One dent, one scuff at a time. It gives him something to concentrate on. Sam tries to talk to him but he doesn't give much back.

Ellen crouches down next to him the second day when he's popping a dent out of the hood.

"You found him I take it?"

Dean doesn't respond, only pushes harder and harder until it finally gives.

"Didn't go great?"

"No." Dean mutters in annoyance, trying to put off leave-me-the-fuck-alone vibes without actually biting her head off.

"You wanna talk about it?"

"What do you think?"

Ellen shrugs and casually says, "I think you might."

Dean rolls his eyes and sighs, pointedly walking away and going back to his buffer.

"You're leaving us ain't ya?"

"What gave me away?" he asks without taking his eyes off his work.

"Heartbreak has a way of making people put on their walkin' shoes."

Ignoring that, Dean just answers, "Yeah, I think it's time. Demons aren't gonna kill themselves." He smiles bitterly.

"Why now?"

"It's time," he repeats. He needed distance from them to do what needed to be done. It wasn't going to be easy finding Azazel and it would most likely take the bloody way. His jaw ticks as lays the buffer against the surface.

"This fella did a number on you, huh boy?" Ellen sighs, "I'm sorry I ever pushed you to go after the bastard."

"Don't be," Dean rolls his shoulders in an attempt at carelessness. "I'm over it."

"Uh huh. Well if he couldn't see a good thing when it was in front of him, fuck em'."

That surprises Dean into a snort and Ellen pats him on the back. Sighing, Dean places the buffer down and just stares at it. Quietly he says, "You know what really gets me? It was good and I mean really good. He felt it and he just-"

Dean flashes on that instant when Cas gave in and kissed him before shoving him away. He'd put himself out there for the first time in his life and Cas threw it back in his face. Shaking his head, Dean finishes, "I just don't understand why he didn't try harder."

"Give someone your heart and they'll disappoint you. It's a risk we all run. The trick is not to give up before you find someone that's worthy of it."

It sounds a little overly romantic for Ellen but when he glances at her face, she's lost in her own thoughts not even looking at him. Her husband had died over a decade ago and for the first time he'd wondered what Bill Harvelle had been like. What it was like for Ellen without him. Losing him like that.

On Friday he drives to pick up Sam from school in the newly restored Impala. His brother's face falls as soon as he hears the growl of the car and when he gets in, the door slams behind him.

"You're leaving aren't you?"

"I'll be back," Dean automatically says watching the road.

"Whatever," he turns towards the window.

After a few minutes, Dean pulls off the road and turns to Sam.

"Sammy, I wanted to give you something before I left."

Dean reaches back between the seats and pulls out a blade in sheath. Its short bowie, one dad kept wedged in his boot usually.

Sam's eyes light up in obvious interest but he's trying to still seem unaffected.

"Now it's not a toy and if you cut your hand open and bleed all over the carpet and get me in trouble with Ellen I'll be pissed."

Sam rolls his eyes.

"It was dads. Just thought you should have it." Dean passes it to him. "Don't do anything but hide it for right now. When I get back I'll show you some stuff."

As he watches him slowly pull it free from the sheath, Dean can't help thinking this really was a stupid thing to give him but he was feeling sentimental. Dad gave him a knife when he turned 16 and if he didn't come back… it felt right that he do this for Sam.

While Sam's busy staring in awe at the gift Dean says, "I'll come back soon, okay?"

Sam pushes the blade back in the sheath then sets it in his lap and turns back towards the window. "Don't make promises you can't keep, Dean."

And that was it. How they were gonna leave it. As soon as he pulls up to the house, Sam gets out. Jo and Ellen come outside to say goodbye just as he stomps past the inside.

Ellen smiles tightly. "You Winchester boys, always in hurry to get somewhere."

"Yeah," Dean frowns. "Guess so."

"He'll come around."

Dean nods and steps forward. "And I expect to see you for Thanksgivin'," Ellen points at him sternly before grabbing him in a tight hug.

"C'mon, like I'd miss your pumpkin pie."

"I'll make apple too just as an extra incentive."

Dean gives her wider grin than he thought he was capable over Jo's shoulder as he gives her a one-armed hug too. "I'll make it."

Turning the corner and leaving the house he'd called home for over half a year, Dean gets back out onto the highway.

Everything after that narrows to finding Azazel. He doesn't take random hunts anymore. Werewolves and ghosts were just distractions. Give him demons.

Ellen said he didn't need to take up his dad's obsession. Well he really did. He needed an obsession to hold close and fixate on. To block out all the other crap. Cas. His dad. Sam telling him not to make promises he couldn't keep, sounding too close to when Dean was a teenager and thinking that about their father. He needs a direction, and now had it.

He gets good at torturing. Not that he was half bad before but his stomach holds out better now. He gets to love the flash of black as they scream because it meant he was hurting them like they'd always managed to hurt him. Salt, Water, Knife, Repeat. Just like his dad taught him.

All his life, demons fucked everything up and he was ready to cut a bloody path through them. When the trail got cold for demon possessions, he'd find the nearest crossroad. He wanted Azazel but Crowley would do too. Then he'd work Crowley over and that thought gave him a twinge of dark pleasure.

It ends up taking almost 4 months and 3 crossroads demons. He buried the first two bodies in the middle of their crossroads. It seemed poetic and if he'd been honest, he took a perverse gratification from killing them. After his dad, he needed to kill them. He doesn't hesitate or let himself dwell on the human its riding anymore. If there were black eyes in its head, then it was something he could and would kill.

The third didn't seem to like the burn of salt all that much.

Holding her jaw and tipping another swallow down her throat she coughs around the red gore bubbling past her shiny lips.

When she screams something unintelligible, he pauses and steps out of the ring of the devil's trap he has her tied to a chair in.

"What was that? Couldn't understand you with all these shit in your mouth."

She glares with solid red orbs that he'd noticed where particular to the deal making bitches and spits a glob of something disgustingly thick and growls, "What do you want?!"

"Take me to your leader, baby."

Her eyes fade back to normal. "Crowley?"

"Bingo."

"No… he'd- he'd kill-"

Another mouthful of salt and she's bucking and screaming curses at him.

Dean circles her slowly. "Now listen up. The next time I pick up this bag, I don't put it down till it's empty. Then the holy water. Then the knife. And then I have to move on to the next crossroads skank for answers and start all over again. You give me what I want and I go away. We both win." Stopping in front of her with the bag of salt on the ground between them he asks, So what's it gonna be, sweetheart?"

In the end, he takes the address and stabs her in the gut anyway. Even if he was negging on a deal, he didn't feel an iota of guilt. His dad's words are louder in his head now, beating through him. Never leave 'em alive. It was easier than it ever had been not to see the human face as he took it out. He was finally becoming a hunter his dad would be proud of.

Dean finds the King of Douches sipping whiskey and reclining in a leather chair behind a wide desk. Predictably, it was in the most expensive house on the block. Getting through the guards took time. But time was all he had. Quiet and deadly, he made his way through the lavish house leaving behind bodes and blood wherever he stopped.

Crowley just tipped up the heavy glass and swallowed when he presses the knife to his throat.

Coughing shallowly, the demon turns his head gently to the side. "Oh there you are. Wondering when you were going to stop by."

"Oh yeah? You miss me?" Dean slips around to face him, knife tight to his throat.

"Sweetie, you seem tense."

"Tense. Yeah, I wonder why. You wanna know what it feels like to get your throat cut? I can describe it for you. Or better yet I could just show you so you get the full experience."

"You look well for a dead man. Little angelic intervention? I suppose it's one of the perks for bending over for a-"

Crowley chokes and hisses as Dean pushes the blade steadily into his skin and has to jut his chin up to arch away from it.

"Okay, okay! Look I was hoping your side would come out on top but I had to bet on both teams. And as I'm sure you are aware, Azazel's still out there! You didn't get them both so can't you see… self-preservation?"

"Where is he?"

"What makes you think I'd know something like that?"

"You better convince me you do." Dean tells him as he motions with his hand to get up out of the chair. Fist twisted in his shirt, Dean backs him up with the knife to beyond the door and around the corner.

"Alright now stay."

Crowley laughs incredulously when Dean walks past him to recover his bag from the shadows and crouches down to start pulling out his supplies. "Well since last I checked I wasn't a pooch I think I'll be going."

His face falls when he can't seem to move forward. Dean pulls out the bottle of holy water and calls over his shoulder. "Good boy."

Directly below him there's a small devil's trap in red marker only large enough for him to take a step in either direction. Dean had drawn it hastily before he made his move, hoping he'd be able to take him alive.

Standing up, Dean smiles and asks, "So where were we?"

As it turns out, it didn't take much. After only a single splash of holy water, Crowley's spluttering, "I'll tell you!" Ha. The Wannabe King of Hell seemed to be squeamish when it was his own vessel sizzling.

"You'll show me," Dean corrects, swishing the bottle in warning.

"I'll need a match and the map in my office desk, third drawer." Dean walks back into the room and Crowley calls, "the key is in my-" but he's cut off by the sound of wood splintering. "Heathen," he mutters as Dean returns with the map in hand.

When Crowley tries to bargain his way out of the trap to do the location spell, Dean drags a heavy table over to him instead.

"Hey, that's Brazillian Cherrywood you're scuffing, you uncultured He-man!"

Tossing down the folded paper in front of him with the box of matches, Dean grunts, "There. Do your little map trick."

Spreading his hands over the map to smooth it, Crowley flicks his eyes up and asks, "What's to stop you from topping me like you have every other demon you see?"

"Aw what's a matter, Crowley? Trust issues?"

He shrugs and smiles coyly. "I've been hurt before."

"Alright, we'll make a deal. You give me a treasure map and I'll let you go."

"Bet you sweet-talked the last demon the same way before you stuck them with that pretty little knife of yours."

Dean smirks like he was caught. He reaches inside his jacket and takes out said blade. He twists it in the light so he can see it's the right one. "Knife for the map?"

Crowley tenses while he waits for Dean to move, but he just tosses it to him without further preamble.

It's obvious the demon's a little surprised but quickly recovers to his default smarmy confidence, his lips turning up in satisfaction now that he has possession of the only weapon he knew Dean could kill him with.

"Just between us girls, what's an angel like in bed? Fire and Brimstone or Heavenly Devotion?"

Striking a match, he raises a cocky eyebrow at the hard lines of Dean's face and tosses it. After a few words of Latin, it burns up the paper unnaturally quick and only leaves a small spot to the far left. Crowley gives him a sideways glance. "There's your big bad demon."

Dean picks it up, taking a second to note his destination, then cocks his head at him like he's considering that won't end well for the demon.

"Now, now we had a deal."

"The devil's in the details. I said I'd give you the knife." He pulls out an angel blade and grins. "For the King of the Crossroads, you're a shit salesman."

"Where in the bloody hell did you get that?"

"Souvenir." Dean steps towards him. "Gotta say, been lookin' forward to this."

Crowley holds his hands up, placating. His back is to the edge of the trap. "Anything. Anything you want. Tell me what you want!"

"My mom."

"I can't-"

"My dad."

"Be reasonable."

"Sorry, all my reason went out the door when my family was killed by goddamn demons."

Dean steps within striking distance just as Crowley yells, "Wait! The redhead!"

Nothing he says can stop him now. He raises his arm to end him.

"Oh for Christ's sake- what was her- Charlie? Charlie!"

Dean hesitates and grinds his teeth with the need to shove the blade deep into his gut. Do it. Kill him. His dad would without a blink. Nothing and no one comes before taking one of them out. Stop being weak. He's just throwing out her name now to save his skin. Dean has to do it. He needs to do it. Do it.

"I'll let her go. Fair trade. No strings."

Do it. Kill him. Now. NOW.

Dean pushes aside the voice in his head urging him on for a second. Charlie. Yes, he was a demon. But just one demon. There would always be more. And this was the soul of someone he once considered a friend. This was Charlie's soul versus just another dead demon. If only it wasn't this demon.

"How do I know you'll keep up your end?" he asks to buy himself more time to think. It was so hard to think. Killing him would be easier.

"I have one rule: Make a deal, keep it." Crowley smiles with nerves that make it look more like a grimace. "So.. we got a deal?"

Dean exhales, closing his eyes, to force himself to stop and think of something other than the need to stab.

Mario. Charlie and him eating a whole bag of chips. Sharing a PB&J and telling him it was okay. He was okay. Charlie yelling, "For the Republic!" in that extra dorky way of hers. Fuck. Shaking, as he lowers his arm, Dean spits out, "Deal."

He takes out his glock and shoots a huge hole in the nice expensive wood, breaking the trap. Crowley's jump and outraged horror makes him feel a little better. "And I'm not kissing you."

Blowing out a harsh breath, Crowley rubs a hand down his face. "Your loss."

He slides the knife across the table back towards Dean. Before he poofs out of existence he says, "I don't know who I'm rooting for more. You or Azazel. Maybe you'll take each other out and we'll have a happy ending, eh?"

Two days later, Dean's sitting at night in the Impala, looking at the church in the distance. He's been scoping it out since yesterday and at this point, he's pretty sure they're all demons. They were probably cooking up some new evil plan, but it didn't really fucking matter. Tonight he'll go in. There's no reason to wait any longer.

He doesn't call Sam. He already said his goodbye whether he realized it or not. Sam deserved better but it was what it was.

For the first time in a long time, Dean lets down the barriers he put up around his name in his mind and thinks… _Cas_. He hasn't prayed to Cas since that day. Months and months and he's managed… well he's tried not to think about him. Not to stop or let up long enough to let him back into his head. First it was find a demon. Then it was find Crowley. Finally find Azazel. Now he's here and it's time… and he can't just leave it.

It hurts to open up that part of him, to even think his name, but he does.

 _Cas. I… I'm still pissed at you, damnit. I know you don't believe that shit you said. But it doesn't matter anymore. In the long run, you know. I had a while to think about it and you know what, it doesn't fucking matter. You're up there and I'm here. The way it should be, right?_ Dean leans his forehead on the steering wheel. _I just needed to say…_

It's suddenly too stuffy in the car. He gets out of the car and comes around the front, needing air. Running fingers roughly through his short hair, Dean turns to sit on the hood of his car. He stops thinking about the right words to say goodbye and just looks up at the stars. It's something he hasn't done in… he can't even remember when. Dean pulls the obsidian feather out of his jacket pocket and turns it carefully between his thumb and index finger.

_When I was a kid…I used to imagine you up there, flying with the stars when you didn't visit. Stupid, huh?_

Dean stares at the stars a long time before he can say the rest. He won't have another chance.

_I haven't said it to anyone in a really long time… but I think…_

He thumbs over the tip of the feather before pocketing it again. This time he says the words out loud while he prays. _"I know I loved you. I still love you. I guess I needed you to hear it. Just once."_

Dean puffs out a breath and gives a small smile of regret up at the sky, oddly feeling a little better. He slides off the car. Now he can go. The last of his goodbyes. If Cas was in front of him he'd probably never be able to say any of that, but here, as a farewell thrown out for him to catch the words or not… it wasn't all that hard.

An hour later, Gabriel watches from the top of a tree as Dean walks into a church full of demons. "Oh… sugarshack."

In Heaven, Castiel closes his eyes and makes a painful gasp that feels like a sob. He bows his head and holds it in his hands before fisting his fingers in his hair for a second in agitation. Suddenly he stands from beside his pond on shaky legs and gathers his courage to him, Dean's words helping him along.

Balthazar looks at him in question. Usually one of them is always with him now when he's not with Naomi. They keep him company. After... after the dream.

Frowning, his brother asks, "What is it?"

"I'm ready." And surprisingly his voice sounds normal if not determined.

"Ohh cryptic. Ready for…"

He starts walking and Balthazar gets up hurriedly, "Ready for what, Cassie?!"

Castiel feels Batlhazar behind him as he crosses over endless heavens, endless folds of space all on top of one another and comes to stand at the edge. It's mostly allegorical; just an area that has been agreed upon so that it manifests itself this way now. It appears as a slopping cliff that he is at now, gasping on his fear but pushing that away from him. This is a good moment. One step and he would be with Dean. Really it's the act of dropping without protecting themselves, wings folded tight, but it all comes down to if he will be able to take that step.

"Stop! I know what you're thinking but you can't. Not now. Not like this."

"Why would I wait any longer? I want to be with Dean."

"Damnit, he isn't worth your wings, Cassie!"

Castiel turns back to him. "He is. To me, he is." He steps closer and puts a hand on Balthazar's shoulder. "This is what I want, Balthazar." Angels are drawing closer to bear witness. Out of curiosity or to gawk, he ignores them and embraces his brother around the neck. "I hope you'll come to me when I'm human." It was against every rule but he says it anyway.

Balthazar huffs a small noise that sounds pained and hugs him tightly in return. "Just try and stop me."

Smiling, Castiel takes a moment to look around at his brothers and sisters, all watching him and murmuring to one another but Balthazar and Gabriel are the only ones he will truly miss. He wishes Gabriel was here. His feet curl at the edge. He doesn't look down. Knows without looking the clouds seem to trail downward just here like it's a waterfall. It's beautiful and awful. He thinks of Anna. How brave and fearless she seemed the last time he was here, being held back because he couldn't stop her. He would have never thought he'd be standing here, willing to give up his very existence for a human. One special human. His human.

Castiel closes his eyes and takes that last step.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One chapter left. Hold tight, my darlings. This last chapter will be a doozie. Are you ready?


	26. Angels

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This isn't how it was supposed to be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because this is taking me an excruciatingly long time to finish and it really is getting ridiculously long, I’ve broken up the last chapter. This is only about a third of it. Next part to follow in a day or so. Optimistically. But I wouldn't trust me. I’m sorry. I love you?

The urge to catch himself with his wings is almost irresistible but Castiel keeps them tight to his back and curls himself into a ball. Think of Dean.

_Green Eyes. Freckles. That special desperate noise he makes that embarrasses him._

When he hits the ground it'll be over.

_Green Eyes. Freckles. Smiling so the corners of his eyes crinkle._

It has to be any moment now.

_Green Eyes-_

His whole body throbs when he smacks hard into something. Castiel clutches his knees tighter and swallows a sob. Are his wings gone? Is it done?

"You could freakin' help, ya know."

He opens his eyes slowly to see he's… ascending? A second more and Castiel realizes he didn't hit the ground at all. He hit his brother. Gabriel is holding him around the middle and flying him back up.

"Stop!" He starts to fight and squirm in his arms. "It's my choice. You can't interfere!"

"Yeah well I just did."

Gabriel makes one final push with his multiple wings and then Castiel finds himself deposited next to a suspiciously red-eyed Balthazar who upon seeing him, falls on his butt like he's exhausted. "Thank every pope in a pointy hat, you caught him," he sighs in exaggerated relief as more angels gasp at them, some flying off to undoubtedly get their superiors.

"You're not allowed to stop me!" Castiel growls, pushing to his feet shakily. He unwraps his wings in anger and maybe just to feel them again.

"Just chill," Gabriel holds out a hand puffing himself like he's out of breath. "You've got a hunter down there that might need a boyfriend with wings."

"Dean?" He straightens out of a defensive posture. "What's happened?"

Gabriel still breathes hard and he can only impatiently wait. He must have pushed himself very hard to be acting so tired now but all he wants to do is shake him until he answers. Around them even more of his brothers and sisters gather than before, standing in a loose circle around them. Apparently they are making quite a spectacle. Even the ever present chorus of voices has ceased. Just as Gabriel regains his breath, he sees a brother he had hoped to avoid.

"Castiel." Michael steps forward looking past him to the edge and back again. "You were going to fall?"

Castiel looks down in unavoidable shame. It wasn't supposed to be like this. He wasn't expecting to be confronted with all of them staring at him in accusation. "I had to."

He seems momentarily confused. It looks strange on Michael's face. He always appears completely certain and sure-footed in any situation.

"For him?"

Castiel looks up steadily. This he was not ashamed of. "Yes."

Gabriel snaps for his attention. "Look we don't have time; you can have your existential crisis later. Dean's taking on Azazel."

Castiel turns and opens his wings wide, already moving to leave but is interrupted by the voice he was expecting to never hear again.

"No!"

He hesitates only a moment before reluctantly turning back. Naomi is red in the face stomping toward him. "Have you forgotten you are under Revelation? Stop this moment. We need to talk-"

"I'm finished talking to you." He rips the cuff off; it burns his fingers but turns gold once it's in his hand. He wordlessly passes it to Gabriel.

"If you leave, you will not be allowed back. If this is your decision…"

She obviously was not told yet of his attempt to fall. He faces away from Naomi and everything she represents. He's done listening to angry words. Dean needs him.

"Gabriel! Balthazar! Stay where you are!"

Castiel keeps walks, not looking if they're behind him or not. It was a direct order. He knows they will stay. Naomi's voice sounds a little desperate, a little less hard when she calls one last thing.

"Castiel… we are your family!"

"He's my family." He says it softly to himself, just before diving back toward the earth, wings open this time. He didn't know where Dean would be but he knew instantly where his feather was.

+++ +++ +++ +++

Apparently Azazel and his cronies were trying to open a HellMouth. Dean didn't even know what that meant but it sounded pretty damn bad. He'd been stepping quietly along the shadows for over an hour, trying to get close enough. It was cold, and damp. This wasn't one of those plushy churches with new pews and soft red carpet. Not the Catholics style. It was old and a little creepy with stained-glass windows of long dead guys and statues of a dying Jesus, nails and all. Not to mention the 8 or 9 demons skulking around wearing nuns.

He crouches in a pocket near the back and watches them move around. They've been gathering all kinds of grizzly ingredients for a few days. Blood and bone and powdered intestines of who knew what saint. He sighs quietly, waiting to see the priest again. Azazel.

All he needed was one clear shot. Doesn't matter what happens after that. Dad's gun in hand, he could fix this. He would make him proud.

Dean sees a chance when one walks close enough. He steps behind a back pillar and covers the mouth of the demon, pulling the nun into the shadows, he knifes her in the side. It squirms and jerks and dies. Dean lowers the small body to the floor and moves on. He manages one more and then waits. That's about as many as he can risk. He's close enough. Within range. Dean watches some more of the ritual, throughout the half hour, he heard two of them talking in low tones while he hid behind a pew.

He was close enough. It was time. He stows the knife in his other hand, then reaches for the colt. Just as he was standing to aim, Azazel suddenly stops mid-word and focuses on him with hate-filled yellow eyes.

Dean rushes the shot and the bastard spins away holding his face.

All the demons stop and stare between them, surprised at Dean as if the boogie man just appeared before them. But then Azazel straightens and pulls his red wet hand away from the hole that was previously his ear and smiles wide.

He'd missed. His one chance and he'd missed. He'd rushed it. Goddamnit.

Azazel laughs dabbing at the ruined meat of the ear belonging to his meatsuit and looks at his bloody fingers. Six or seven demons span out around him in a loose circle but he doesn't go for the bait. The guns still pointed at their boss and that's all that keeping them back. Still, he tries to keep track of them in his peripheral, can't let them get behind him.

"Let me ask ya, Dean. How many bullets you got left in that pea-shooter, huh?" He paces slowly, eyes flashing once and grinning. "Last I had possession of it - while possessing your daddy that is – it had two left. So that leaves you with… one? One little bullet to take out something like me. Lotta pressure. Bet you've got this all built up as vengeance for your poor dead mommy and daddy. This is your big moment, huh?" He grimaces as if in mock sympathy. "Sure you won't choke? One little bullet... and you know the second you use it, whether it hits me or not, they're gonna pounce. Ah Dean, they'll rip you to shreds, buddy. Suck the blood off their fingers. They'll make it last, Dean."

Dean glares and breathes out, ignoring the hairs on the back of his neck standing on end. They're moving closer but he waits. Breathes out again. Azazel's still talking; buying time and Dean waits. Breathes out. Find that moment of calm. He can do this. He can do this. Find the calm.

Azazel glances to a few of the sisters closest to him and he can hear them shuffling all together. "Dean, Dean, Dean... you _really_ think-"

**BAM!**

Dean lowers the gun and they're all surprised when Azazel jerks, electric fizzle, hiss… got him right between the eyes. He falls to his knees, then down with a wet thud.

Dead.

The grim smile creeps across his face slow, elation building through him. He did it. He fucking did it. He-

The demons shake themselves from the shock of seeing Azazel fall and turn towards him all at once.

Oh Shit.

When they rush, it's as one.

He did plan for this a little. He has a salt bomb and got his arm up just in time but it only scatters them for a moment. Like cockroaches. Like cockroaches that were coming to tear into him.

One's writhing on the ground, but not dead. That leaves 6 standing.

He grabs inside his jacket for a bottle of holy water and breaks it over ones head. It howls as he shoves it away in time to take the brunt of another barreling into him. Dean punches the stout black-eyed woman to give him time to deal with the next. Can't let them all get close all at once. Already he's so exhausted. Knife to the gut, that's five. Five left.

This is more than he'd ever taken on before but with a kick to one and a half turn to stab the one behind him, Dean admits he's not doing too bad. Four. Four left.

There's blood in his eyes and a deep cut on his leg but he's still standing. Still swinging. Heaving. He moves to strike a petite blond but get grabbed by the throat. Kicking futilely, he can't swallow around the thumb pushing into his windpipe. His eyes flutter, then he's jerked forward and thrown into the far wall. He head hits brick.

His ears ring in a vaguely annoying way and everything's tinged in grey at the corners of his vision. Gotta get up. Get up. Up.

Dean shakily gets to a knee just to stumble and land hard on his shoulder with a grunt. And that's it. He's done. He tries twice more but he can't make his arms carry him enough to get to his feet. And they're coming.

Closing his eyes, Dean breathes out, searching for a calm thought. Cas is just there waiting for him in the darkness behind his eyelids. Cas. Not of when they had sex or anything. Just Cas sitting on his bed and reading comics. Gently turning the pages of his Superman comic just like he showed him. Dean's lips twitch in a small smile. It wasn't a bad thought to go out on.

A woman's voice cries out to someone and Dean creaks his eyes open. Why aren't they coming? He should be stabbed by now. If he was lucky. Hopefully they wouldn't stretch it out. Hopefully they'd be too eager.

The lights dim.

Blondie screams too and Dean frowns but doesn't have the energy to crane his neck to see what happened. He loses several minutes, weaving in and out of consciousness but another loud yell wakes him again. Dean finally forces himself to push up on his elbows.

Despite the grey giving him tunnel vision, Dean eventually registers that he's seeing an angel. And not just any angel, _his_ angel. He has a hand to the forehead of the demon who threw him. Cas is looking around, searching. Looking so damn serious. Dean snorts and immediately winces in pain. He really did frown too much. Cas' pinched eyebrows smooth when his gaze finally lands on him.

Did he dream this up or was he already dead?

Stepping over debris and bodies, Cas crouches down by him. "You're hurt," he evaluates solemnly. "And you look particularly awful."

"Ah cut it out, you're makin' me blush." Dean's shallow laugh turns into a hiss at the pain in his ribs. Several have to be broken.

Cas smiles and reaches forward to tentatively cup his cheek as if he was waiting for Dean to pull away. Dean grabs it with his own hand and lays it flush against him, gritting his teeth at the movement it took to reach forward but it was worth it. Cas was touching him with that warm skin and it made everything a little better. Even if it was probably a dream.

Cas closes his eyes in something like relief and within a moment, Dean's feeling almost completely better. His ribs still ache distantly but they don't feel broken anymore and he's not gushing blood from the stab wound. His head only dully aches now, the grey receding. He still has some scrapes and cuts but the worst gashes close.

Dean licks his lips, looking back up at his savior. Not a dream then. Cas definitely seems worse for wear with a deep slice to his arm and one almost to the joint of his neck and shoulder. He's bloody and cut but alive, seemingly happy despite the injuries.

Sitting up, Dean lets his eyes sweep over the mayhem of the church. It's pretty gruesome. Dead nuns and a priest. It'll make a big splash in the papers, but the Hellmouth opening would have been a hell of a lot worse. Not that anyone would ever know about that.

Shaking his head and sighing, Dean says, "Thanks. Now do something about yourself."

"I will finish healing you and myself later."

"Outta juice?"

Cas nods, lips still upturned. Dean takes a second to look him up and down. Bloody, torn leather pants. Shirt no better. Hair sticking up with the blood of dead demons all over his arms and front. Wild, almost feral with those crazy bright eyes… and he looks just about the best thing Dean's ever seen.

"How are you here? I thought you were trapped behind the pearly gates."

"You needed me."

Dean smiles at that but tampers it down. "You in more trouble now?"

"Undoubtedly. Knowing you is nothing but trouble." Cas says with affection and cups his face again, warm fingers drawing him close. Dean almost lets it happen, this is everything he wanted, but before he can move to grab him close in welcome, he shifts back.

"Wait."

It'd be easy to give into the good feelings and forget everything else. But he'd be kicking himself later.

Castiel pauses and drops his hands as if expecting this.

"How long is it for this time? You being here."

As he sits back, invisible feathers rustle in agitation. "I want to be here. I want to be with you."

"Now. Now you're telling me this. And I'm just supposed to forget feeling like shit for almost a year."

Castiel's eyebrows wedge together, his eyes slide to the side with uncertainty. "I had hoped…"

"Cas, you can't just drop in whenever it's freaking good for you. Every time it hurts more when you go."

He sounded like a clingy girl on some daytime soap but he couldn't just go through that again. He'd gone after Cas once and Cas had sent him packing.

"Dean."

"No, do you have any idea wha-"

"Dean, stop talking!" He gets to his feet and begins to pace right in front of him. "I need to tell you two things and then I will leave if you want."

Stiffening, Dean throws up a hand in a go on.

"First, I need to tell you Uriel found your family because of me."

Dean crosses his arms as Castiel bows his head and continues. "Uriel was allied with demons. They were searching for you but until he followed me one night thinking to chastise me I am sure..."

The rest hangs in the air.

"Yeah, I knew that."

Castiel jerks his head up. "You... what?"

"Well it wasn't hard to figure out once I knew Uriel flipped his switch. That Naomi let it slip."

Cas seems off-footed and Dean sighs because he can't help himself. He pushes to his feet and steps forward.

"Listen to me, that wasn't on you. It's on a dead asshole angel that you took out. They probably woulda found us eventually. All I know is if you weren't there… they'd have killed me that night and then probably gone after Sammy too. Don't let the guilt fuck with your head, man."

Dean reluctantly takes another step and squeezes his shoulder until he makes eye contact. "I'm tellin' you. It's okay."

Heaving a deep sigh, Castiel steps the rest of the distance until they're close enough to breathe each other's air and keeps moving forward, bending his head to kiss him just this side of chaste. His hands rest gently on Dean's hips like he needs to touch him in some small way. And after everything, Dean's not strong enough to deny him. He closes his eyes and rubs his lips back in return. For several minutes, they're both so still. Only catching each other's lips softly over and over.

In those moments, Castiel fills with overwhelming joy. This is right. Dean is right. As scared as he was to fall, he was more scared of living eternity without him.

Cas murmurs against his lips, "and second…"

Dean jerks and grunts into his mouth.

"Dean?" Frowning, Cas pulls back an inch and gasps to see blood dripping past his bottom lip. Like his dream. Cas yanks him close and sees the petite nun on its knees behind him. One had remained alive. It grins up at him with shining black-eyes and a blood drenched knife until he smacks his palm against the demon's head to purge it, clutching Dean. As he pushes it away, Dean slouches into him, sliding down his body to the ground.

"Sonofabitch…" he wheezes, head lolling "One left."

Cas follows him down, ending up sitting with Dean's head in his lap. "Dean?"

"Figures." Dean was mumbling with his eyes closed, coughing a little blood past his lips.

This was all wrong. They'd made it. He was going to fall. Him and Dean would be together. He was going to be human. Eat greasy food in motelrooms and drive long distances and learn every smile Dean had.

"Dean.. I can't- I can't heal you."

"I know. It's ok. Cheated death for me too-too many times already." He winces and tries to smile at him. His eyes even crinkle. "I'm good, Cas. They're dead. It's… it's okay now."

"It's not okay!" He shakes his head in disbelief. "I'm going to fall. We're going to be together. Dean.. we're going to- Gabriel! Balthazar!"

Castiel screams at the ceiling, but of course they can't come to save Dean this time. He jerks in his arms and seems more lucid for only a moment before sinking back against him.

This is not right! A random demon.. not Lilith.. Alastair.. Azazel. All of them were dead now and they would have been free.. He planned to fall.. He was going to.. And just a normal black-eyed grunt., would take out the one human in this world he..

He cries to his brothers then curses them. His face is wet though he's filled with anger more than sorrow. All the missed chances they've had and now it would never be their time.

Eyes shut, Dean laughs shallowly once. "Even got an angel to cry over me. Could be worse."

"Dean..." he doesn't know what else to say. He squeezes Cas' hand weakly and swallows hard. "You heard me right? When I- what I said.."

Dean's prayer. It seemed a lifetime ago. Of everything he said, all Cas remembers was the last part. The words that pulled him to his feet in Heaven and had him diving off the edge. "Yes."

He's fading and so softly sighs, "That's good…"

Castiel was momentarily distracted by a pulse of grace in the distance, calling to his own. Someone was coming. Gabriel, Balthazar, any number of angels he most likely called out to in his panic. Then his elation falls when he looks down. "Dean?"

His heart is slowing.

"Dean!" He shook him roughly but this time he remained quiet and his eyes didn't open. He would only have a collection of seconds, maybe a minute or two, and then be gone. Everything Dean was or would be… just gone.

This wasn't how it was supposed to be! It's all he could think over and over. Castiel had been ready to give up his wings tonight, instead he was watching his human bleed out without being able to do anything. He couldn't heal himself let alone Dean. He wasn't enough. And whoever was coming, wouldn't make it in time. And Dean was- Wait. He wasn't enough but maybe Anna could help. Her grace.. If he tried to heal him himself, he would be unconscious in seconds and Dean would be dead. But maybe Anna's grace could hold him long enough. Angels rarely fell and their grace never used this way. He had no idea if it would help but Dean's breathing more and more shallow. Heart weakening. His body seemed in the last stages of life and he could feel him slipping away.

It may destroy him, burst him from the inside.

"Dean. I.. don't know what else to do.."

Love… He wasn't sure of the emotion and all that it entailed, but from everything he'd seen of humanity, ever book and poem and hymn he'd read… he knew he had that for Dean.

And that meant he couldn't just let this happen.

"I love you too," he kisses his temple.

Castiel yanks the cord off his neck with the glowing blue vial. It's warm, seems to pulse in his hand with liquid energy. He pulls out the rubber stopper, Enochian symbol etched on top. Looking one last time at Dean he tips it into his slack mouth, flowing out like light, fog, liquid all together. He immediately covers his lips with his hand and holds his chin closed with his other hand. Deans eyes are still shut but he bucks once in his arms, his whole body rolling, then he writhes and jerks violently.

Cas holds him for what feels like a long time until he settles into weak twitches.

"No!" Gabriel yells behind him. "What the hell did you do?!"

His brother looks down at the discarded vial. "Damnit, you forcefed him raw grace?"

"I had to! He was dying and you weren't here." Castiel looks back down at Dean whom he realizes hasn't moved in over a minute. "Heal him now!" he sobs in desperation.

Gabriel squints at him considering then shakes his head. "No. I don't know what would happen. He already tossed back a shot of undiluted grace.. Don't know what any more could do. It's a miracle he hasn't ka-boomed yet.." When Cas' eyes widen, Gabriel amends, "I mean... Let's just uh wait and see what happens."

After another minute or two, Castiel grinds out. "He's been still for too long! I can barely hear his heart. Should- should he…"

"There isn't a manual for this, Bro."

At some point when he wasn't paying attention, Balthazar joins them and asks, "What'd I miss?"

"Oh not much." Gabriel sighs stepping back. He must have seen Dean because he winces audibly. "Ohh..." Castiel turns to glare up at him, clutching Dean tighter like he can stop this by will alone.

Balthazar tries for an optimistic smile and offers, "Well um... he's not dead yet?"

No. Not yet.

"I know that!" Cas snaps viciously.

Balthazar puffs out a breath, barely resisting rolling his eyes and goes back to watching. "What's wrong with him?"

Before he can answer, Dean's whole body arches off the ground and he gasps raggedly. Castiel struggles to keep him down then he just drops and remains still. After a moment, he removes his hands and waits. His eyes check the fatal wound along with each scrape and slice he can see. Still bleeding. They aren't healing but his heart still beats. He's staring so intently, trying to notice any change that he almost misses the soft sound that escapes Dean's mouth.

"Dean!" He fists his bloody shirt. "Can you hear me?"

Castiel bends over him to listen and it takes a few tries before can get out another sound.

"Cas?" He coughs weakly and before his eyes, Dean's skin smooths and fills in, only leaving behind dried blood where there was just a gaping hole. He rubs a finger over the spot where it was.

"Cas…" Dean cranes his neck to see him. His eyes open almost too wide and fever bright. "You're... Whoa… You're- you're fucking gorgeous!"

"What a romantic," Balthazar chortles behind him, but he doesn't pay attention. Something is wrong. Dean isn't looking at him exactly but staring past him. Over his shoulder to be exact. Castiel frowns then slowly rolls his shoulder to raise his right wing high and out. Dean tracks the movement, mouth falling open.

"You can see my wings?"

He doesn't answer. Castiel watches with concern as he continues to be preoccupied with what he shouldn't be able to see. Dean's heartbeat is beginning to pick up a little but it's loud at least. Not faint. He much prefers it beating fast in excitement even if he's not sure what is going on. Castiel glances up to exchange a questioning look with Gabriel and he just shrugs. Perhaps it was an effect of Anna's grace.

"Dean you are- Are you okay?"

"Yeah I think so?" He doesn't seem anymore certain. When Castiel drops his wings, Dean finally moves focus to his face and pushes up to a sit on his own. He stays close with arms at his sides ready to catch him if he's too weak but Dean looks okay. Healed. He's going to be okay. He repeats it to himself a few more times.

"What happened?" Dean seems to suddenly notice the angels circling him. "Oh shit, am I dead? Is this Heaven? Tell me you guys aren't in my heaven."

"You wish, Beefcake," Balthazar folds his arms huffily but ruins it by smiling. However Gabriel is still frowning at him and it stops Castiel's surge of relief. "Hey uh Dean…" he says to get his attention.

"Wow, I think that's the first time you ever used my name. Finally got tired of Barbie?"

"Yeah, so anyway, do you feel any different?"

"Different? Well, I feel... kinda good actually." He nods like he's taking an inventory. Stretching his arms and poking at the hole in his shirt. "Great even."

"No pain at all, huh?"

"No… "He pauses to amend, "Well I got a headache, but I mean considering..." He rubs the back of his skull. "I.. I, uh-" his next words are cut off when he starts gasping.

"Dean? What is it?" Castiel asks, watching his hand drop to his chest and clutch his bloody shirt. "Can't b-breathe-" Gasp. "My-" Gasp. "Heart-"

He cuts off mid-word to lurch onto his hands and knees while Castiel watches in panic. Gabriel hooks a hand underneath his arm and forcibly pulls him to his feet. Down on the ground, blue light illuminates Dean's eye sockets, getting brighter with every passing second.

"Wha-" Dean blinks several times, his eyes are suddenly burning. "Ahhh!" Falling back on his butt, he pushes the heels of his palms against his eye sockets trying to alleviate the pressure and kicks futilely at the ground.

And he yells.

And screams.

Over and over as soon as he's able to pull in each short breath for air.

"Dean!" He fights with Gabriel to yank his arm free. "Let me go!"

"Stop, Castiel! He isn't going to make it. Now, we have to go!"

Castiel turns and firmly shoves his brother away. Falling to his knees by Dean, his hands hover uncertainly over him. "I won't leave him again."

Dean screams so loud and long he loses his voice in the middle and finally slumps to curl into a ball. When his eyes open, the painful light emanating from them hurts to even see second-hand. "What's- " he sobs and doesn't finish but instead cries out as his spine bows.

Castiel gathers him into his lap and rocks him slowly through the wave of pain. Both angels wince and back away a little.

Balthazar tries next. "Cassie, I don't know what you did but if he pops... the grace could- well he's like a bomb about to go off, damnit!"

Gabriel pulls against Castiel's shoulder but he doesn't let go as Dean alternates between whimpering and screaming.

"I'll end it quick. Just please go with Balthazar now."

"No! Leave then. Leave us alone!" He yells blindly through his tears and clutches Dean closer. Both Balthazar and Gabriel start to crowd him and he's bracing to fight them again but then-

Then there's a sickening crunch of bone.

After a second to listen and find its origin, Castiel grips him higher up so he can bend over his back and grabs a fist full of Dean's shirt. Ripping it away in one violent motion, he's sees...

It's impossible.

Dean's shoulder blades suddenly jut out to pierce through the skin of his back. Pointed tips of bone grow up to rip and tear a path outwards, as he screams until he's hoarse and just opening his mouth without sound. Dean digs his fingers into Cas' thighs and back, clutching, clawing, fisting. Making him bleed, but he would let him do it for as long as he was able if it would help. Powerless to stop this, Castiel holds his head and rubs his neck, watching in amazement as the white bone lengthens and bows into an arch. Barely believing his eyes, he watches as feathers unfurl and thicken into rows, one after the other, before his eyes forming the primaries. Damp as if covered in dew.

"What in the feathery hell is going on?" Balthazar calls from behind him in awe. "How is this happening?"

"Anna's grace."

The secondaries fill in and he holds his breath but the final flight feathers emerge as well. He's going to be whole at least.

"You gave it to him?!" His brother looks horrified, crouching at his side to keep an eye on the transformation.

"Yes! He was dying!" He whispers harshly, then immediately tries to calm himself so he doesn't jar Dean while brushing through his hair with his shaky fingers.

Dean makes another weak cry but it's less gut wrenching. There's exhausted relief in his little noises now.

Gabriel pokes him in the shoulder. "Well he ain't dying now."

"Are you sure?" Castiel can't turn away from Dean to look at his brother to gage the truth of his words.

"If he was gonna bite it, I think it would have happened by now."

A few more tense moments and it seems to be over. The wings stop growing. And they are the most beautiful thing he was ever seen.

Unlike Balthazar's tan feathers, Gabriel's white feathers or even Castiel's black, Dean's were not a solid color. The top ones along the arch of wing bone are deep brown. Rows lower they lighten to a golden tan then to white with spots of light brown, something he'd never seen on any of his brother or sisters. Finally the lower long flight feathers were solid white. Beautiful. Breathtaking. Dean.

Dean's breathing changes from quick labored gasps to even and shallow. He shivers against him even as he's unconscious.

"Dean?" He calls softly, not really expecting an answer. Castiel touches his cheek, clammy but then beneath his touch… warm. Or less cold. Dean had always been just that side of cool. Something he'd learned all humans would be for him.

Balthazar squats next to him. "Does this mean I have to start calling him brother-in-law?"

Snickering at himself, his brother reaches out towards his feathers. He takes one of the speckled middle ones between two fingers and rubs curiously. Dean tenses in his lap and when Castiel looks up to see what caused it, he immediately smacks his hand so hard it stings.

Laughing around his "Owww," Balthazar rubs his injured hand. "I think you broke a bone." He stretches his fingers out a few times to heal it.

"Do not touch him in that way," Castiel all but growls.

He rolls his eyes and stands in response.

Castiel strokes over the feather he touched several times and then on to others to smooth the ruffled and unruly new tuffs. Dean exhales deeply against him.

Gabriel pats him on the back. "Congratulations. It's a boy."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a good stopping point right? Are you mad? You seem mad. ;-p Hope everyone isn't too disappointed Cas didn't fall. Last chapter to follow.


	27. Ever After

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This human means everything to me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter, darlings. Finally done. So this was inspired by Peter Pan and kind of branched out into it's own little (very very long) story. I hope you forgive that it wasn't more of a retelling instead. Also it's been mentioned that the story seems very different, almost split after the time jump, especially in tone. There is a reason for that. The first half is more innocent, softer because Dean was innocent. With the attack of demons and death of his mother, the veil gets ripped away and Dean is forced to grow up. And everything is darker and harder because Dean is darker and harder. I hope that makes sense. Anyhoo, Please enjoy my final chapter.
> 
>  
> 
> Here we go...

Dean slept and Castiel waited. The last thing that Gabriel had told him before leaving was not to try and wake him. Whatever was going on with him, he just needed to ride it out and to be patient. Rationally he knew his brothers would have to return to face the consequences of disobeying an order from Naomi by coming to him, but he still wished they had stayed. Selfish as it was. On his own, Castiel was left only with the waiting. And the awful string of questions.

What did he do to Dean?

Was he an angel now?

If he was an angel why was he sleeping?

Would he wake up?

When he did, would he hate him?

It worried Castiel constantly, but all he was able to do was pace in front of the window. He'd returned Dean to his childhood home. It was closer than the hotel and the demons were scattered without a purpose. None would come after them anytime soon. Especially knowing their two highest soldiers were dead. Crowley would most likely try to assume power in the chaos, but that was for someone else to worry about. He wouldn't leave Dean's side again.

He lay face down unmoving for the first two days. Thereafter every few hours his feathers would twitch, the flight feathers straightening sharp then easing. Dean's arms and back would tense but he'd never truly resurface back into consciousness. Castiel frowned deeper each time, waiting for a significant change. Had he doomed Dean to this state? Angels were never meant to be made this way. It changed his very essence.

Though his nose twitches, Castiel refused to approach his oil glands. It would not be appropriate in such a defenseless state though he was curious. He'd taken a rudimentary inspection under Dean's joints just to insure he had them then took care to only touch him when necessary. Tending to his wings, Castiel cleans them, preening them carefully with his own oil. There had been immature short aborted tuffs mixed in with the fully developed rows as a new fledgling might possess, but it was very evident that Dean had violently emerged as a matured male. He seemed to have by-passed all the growing pains and phases of developing wings. It must have been excruciating. Occasionally, Castiel catches himself smiling down at rows of gorgeous multi-colored plumage, but his excitement always shifts to anxiety about how the Dean will react at what he unknowingly forced on him.

Will he blame him? Will he hate him? Would he rather have died?

Michael shows up to on the third day. It was a brief visit, but it wasn't as unpleasant as Castiel was expecting. When he arrives, he spent a few moments evaluating the new angel sprawled on his stomach in the bed, taking in everything it meant then looks up at his brother.

"This human means too much to you."

"This human means everything to me."

Michael's usually stony face softens only momentarily before he calmly continues. "Even if he dies, you will have to remain here. You broke Revelation. You will not be allowed entrance to the Heaven again."

"I understand." Castiel accepts this readily.

Michael nods. "Then goodbye, Brother."

"Michael," Castiel calls him before he steps up on the window seat. He still called Dean a human even seeing what he was now. To Heaven, Dean would be seen as an abomination. Not to mention Naomi had already threatened him once.

"Yes, Castiel?"

"Will I need to defend him?"

If they were coming, it would be soon. He'd need to prepare as best he could.

Michael doesn't glance back at the bed but keeps his gaze. "No. I won't pretend to understand it, but if this is your choice, then no angel will raise a hand against you."

"Not even Naomi? She has said-"

"No. Angel." Michael stands a little straighter. Castiel only presses his lips in a small smile of appreciation, barely resisting moving forward to embrace him. He would not welcome or understand that either.

His brother turns away to leave but pauses on the window sill to say, "I hope you find the peace you never did with us."

 

Sometimes, while he paces, Castiel allows his mind to briefly turn a different way as he examines new truths about Dean.

Now he will be harder to kill. Now he will not grow old. Now he can fly with him. Now we can _share_ eternity…

And then guilt floods him because these were selfish thoughts.

By the fifth day, Castiel is almost buzzing with tense energy. Something had to change. Anything. Balthazar and Gabriel haven't been back since he first came here. Who knew what their punishment was for leaving Heaven. In all the waiting, he dwells on each choice he's made since knowing Dean and whether any of them were right.

Thankfully that night, Dean groans and shifts up onto his bent arm.

"Cas?"

"Dean." He shuts his eyes and exhales heavily at the sound of his gruff voice and strides quickly across the room to the bed. He doesn't sit down in case his reaction is… bad.

"What happened?" Dean yawns then pushes up with his arm but in doing so puts weight on his feathers and pulls them. Yelping, he almost falls off the bed, trying to get away from the suddenly thrashing wings in his peripheral. Eyes wide with confusion he yells, "What the fuck is that?!"

Castiel grabs his arms while he twists, trying to still him. "Dean, you have to calm down."

"What the hell-" A lamp crashes next to them, the bookcase almost tips as well. "Dean. Dean!"

He ends up having to subdue him, climbing on top of his thighs and pressing him down by the shoulders onto his back until Dean can't move. Castiel's surprised at how much he has to fight to do that now. Dean's strength has increased considerably. "Breathe. I'm going to help you but you need to calm down first."

Dean blinks and just stops fighting. "Whoa..."

"What?" He was anxious over what was happening now.

"Your…" he reaches out gently and Castiel hesitantly releases go of his shoulders to let him. "I can see your wings."

"Oh." Castiel bows his head and slides his eyes to the side feeling ridiculously shy all of the sudden. "Yes, you said that before."

He shifts back to sit on the bed and stretches out his wing, letting Dean sit up as well to touch them. Remaining still, Castiel tries very hard to ignore the sensitivity and turn off that part of him that is so affected by this. The awe in Dean's eyes touches him and makes him flush with pride. He wants Dean to find them appealing.

Dean blinks and takes back his hand. Looking over his shoulder, he seems to realize all at once that the quivering feathers are attached to him. He lunges and twists to grab a handful in an attempt to see them better. Castiel slowly reaches behind him and rubs along the line of his shoulderblade. The wing immediately curves around in front of him, as if in reflex. Dean holds his gaze for only a moment then moves to inspect it.

"You were dying."

Dean's hand hovers above but doesn't connect with any of the beautiful feathers almost as if he's afraid of them. As if touching them might make it more real.

"I didn't know what else to do."

After glaring at them a minute more, Dean seems to shake himself and look back to him, shifting his gaze down to Castiel's neck, considering.

"It's gone." His tone is neutral, doing nothing to give him hope.

Breathing shallowly, Castiel reaches out his palm to his bare chest and places it over Dean's heart. "No it's not."

The contact with his warm skin is brief. Dean sits up a little further in the bed away from him, his wings naturally curving towards his back again. "Jesus, Cas you shouldn't have done that for me!"

"I had to," he says, firmly looking past him. Now was when Dean would tell him to go. Curse him. Even after having days to prepare himself for this, Castiel didn't know if he would be strong enough to leave.

"So what the hell am I now? Some kinda freak with feathers?"

"You're an angel," he says levelly without inflection.

Dean rubs his face and laughs harshly in disbelief. "No, I'm not."

Castiel fights the urge to shift restlessly as Dean stares down at the covers with wide eyes. Processing. He would give him all the time he needed. Dean didn't have five days to take in his new situation as he did.

Hesitantly, as if he doesn't really want to know the answer, Dean asks, "Did you do this on purpose so I'd be like you?"

The question hurts but he assumed it would come. Castiel swallows so he can answer calmly and ducks his head to catch Dean's eyes. "No. I didn't even know this was possible. It was out of desperation to preserve your life that I gave you her grace. Gabriel was coming. I thought... I don't know what I thought. Your heart had almost stopped. I could feel you were slipping away... and I just had to do something."

Dean doesn't answer just nods and lowers his eyes again to take that in.

After another full minute of silence that he can't take, Castiel adds, "Gabriel thought you would 'ka-boom'."

That makes Dean snort unexpectedly. Shaking his head he whispers, "my fucking life." Sighing, Dean hunches his shoulders and hits Cas in the face with edge of his left wing. "Shit, sorry."

He tries again making a slower exaggerated roll of his shoulders and actually manages to bring them around by himself. Slowly, his fingers ghost over several feathers in a way that makes Castiel's own fingers twitch with longing to do the same. "So these are like, for good?"

Looking at them as well, Castiel answers, "I imagine so."

Still focusing on them, he asks, "Is someone gonna come drag me upstairs?" He doesn't miss the way Dean tenses.

"To Heaven?" When he nods, Castiel finishes, "No. You won't be allowed there." He doesn't mention it was a miracle they weren't going to actively try and kill him.

Dean shrugs, but his relief was obvious. Dean's family was on earth. "Well who wants to go there anyway?" He casually darts his eyes to him, as if the question might not be rhetorical. It still amazes him how much difficulty Dean seemed to have asking a question directly. Now that he was assured he would remain on earth, he was asking whether Castiel would leave again. As if he could leave Dean as he was. He quells his spark of anger over that, and tries to soothe Dean's insecurities instead.

"Before. When you were-" he stops before actually saying _dying_. "Do you remember me telling you-"

"You were gonna fall." It hangs between them for a few seconds before Dean finally allows his face to soften. "Why?"

Tilting his head curiously, Castiel asks, "Do you really not know?"

A small smile slowly spreads over his features and he looks away again. "Yeah, I know."

An intense almost painful warmth blooms behind Castiel's sternum. Perhaps everything would be okay after all.

"Are you angry with me?"

Dean finally looks back at him. "No. Just... adjusting."

"Take your time. If you need time alone..." He was expecting Dean to.

"No!" He grabs his hand in panic then clears his throat. "I mean, I'm good. Unless you need to..."

"No," Castiel assures him easily.

They both smile tentatively then go back to staring at this new part of Dean.

"Are they ugly?"

Castiel grins with his mouth open a little in disbelief. "Your wings?"

"Yeah, I mean, yours are all badass and solid black... and think I got a peek of Gabe's before I passed out. They were white, right?"

He nods.

"Mine are all weird and spotty."

Castiel has to take a breath to keep his voice from shaking as he examines said 'weird and spotty' wings. "Believe me, Dean. They are very _very_ desirable. It is actually extremely difficult not to touch them but I don't want to overwhelm you this soon after you've woken up."

"What does that.. oh. " Dean smirks. "You think I'll be all hot and horny over some feather ruffling, huh?"

Castiel looks away coyly.

"Well hate to break it to you, Cas but don't imagine that's gonna happen. They don't make me feel particularly hot.. just like someone pasted some bird feathers on my back. They're heavy, they're big, and freakin' clumsy as-"

Castiel reaches back to run a finger down the joint to the base of his left wing and Dean kicks out his foot, gasping and fisting the covers.

"How did that feel, Dean?"

"Uh.." He blinks slowly while licking his lips. Castiel cocks his head with a speculatively raised eyebrow. "Not sure I uh caught anything from that."

"You need me to try again?" Castiel smirks now too.

"Sure... If you um want."

As Castiel runs fingers down the tan and spotted feather rows towards the middle, Dean braces his hands on his arms, sinking his blunt nails into his biceps. "Uhhh…" he groans and bites his bottom lip in an attempt to stifle the needy noise. "Holy Shit."

Leaning forward while his eyes are still shut in bliss, Castiel whispers into his ear, "Yes, I believe you will have the same sensitivity I do."

Dean rubs temple against Cas' like a contented cat. "Cas. Do it- do it again."

"You are still adjusting..." he smiles into his neck and kisses his pulse.

Dean groans against his cheek. "Just a little more?"

He shouldn't. Dean just woke up. He definitely should not. Still his fingers are stroking back towards the place he wants most. He already smells so tempting…

"Barbie! You're alive!"

They both jump apart, Dean finishing the job of knocking over the heavy wooden bookcase with his flared out wings.

"And graceful as ever." Balthazar beams at him.

Castiel shakes his head to clear some of the fog over his mind. "You two have been gone for five days. You would manage to return just now."

Gabriel perches at the end of the bed. "Aw, we interrupt you trying to grope a new defenseless angel? Listen Dean-a-reen-o, you need to watch out for these pervy old timers trying to cop a feathery feel."

"Gabriel," Castiel growls and begins to turn a little pink to Dean's delight.

Suddenly it was hitting home. They were both alive. In whatever form, he was alive. Cas was alive. Bad guys were dead. Cas was staying with him. He could deal with the bulky monstrosities behind him for all that.

"Gotta say, had us worried for a while there, big guy." Gabriel evaluates him as if impressed he is in one piece. The memory of the mind numbing pain comes back to Dean all at once. It's hard to remember more than that. Just his eyes burning, and wishing for death to end it.

Balthazar agrees, "Yes I wasn't looking forward to cleaning off hunter tar tar."

Dean blanches. "You really thought I was gonna.."

"Gabriel used the word ka-boom I believe," Castiel offers readily. He'd said that before. Ka-boom. Like a bomb.

Sighing shakily, Dean says, "Awesome. Well why didn't I?"

Gabriel shrugs carelessly like it was one of life's mysteries. "A gen-u-ine miracle? Maybe because you're a prophecy baby? That you've already been brought back from the brink of death once by angel grace, I dunno. If you see God, ask em."

Balthazar laughs harshly. "That's likely. I hear he's summering in Figi this time of year."

Castiel frowns, not for a moment believing God would be in Figi.

"Wait.." Dean has a crazy thought that he can't believe hadn't hit him before. "If I'm supposedly an angel, am I gonna live like… forever?"

Castiel smiles timidly in answer. Dean's mouth falls open in disbelief, not really comprehending that.

"Barring a few stabby possibilities.. kinda.. yeah." Gabriel says so casually and Dean doesn't even look at him. He didn't understand or even need forever. He can only think in terms of lifetimes. Sam. Then after a moment.. Jo, Ellen, even Bobby. He'd have time now. All the time he'd ever need. He'd be there for Sam's prom. Sam's college graduation. Sam life. He'd be there. Turning back to Cas, he began to see this for the gift it was. Even if it was unintentional. And then he thought of the angel in front of him. All the moments they would now have. All the chances they'd missed but now they would have time too. His heart swelled, staring at his profile.

Cas is half paying attention, darting glances back at Dean, as Balthazar explains about Michael surprisingly coming to their defense. "We _are_ in his garrison. Least he could do. He spoke up for your boytoy too."

"You okay with your punishment?" Gabriel asks while Castiel only nods solemnly.

"What?" Dean breaks out of his happy epiphany daze to interrupt suddenly.

"Cassie has to stay on earth too."

He shrugs and turns to Dean. "All I want is here anyway."

And then Dean is up on his knees and almost falls forward in his haste to lean across the bed and press his lips firmly to Cas'. He grabs onto his shoulders too hard with a strength he doesn't realize he possesses yet, but Castiel loves every moment.

"Guys, nookie can wait." Gabriel tries but Dean just ignores anything and everything else to keep kissing him with relief and gratitude and want that he won't hide anymore. Castiel returns it, beginning strokes of soft tongue and gripping the nape of his neck with possessiveness as he takes the brunt of his weight, almost falling backwards.

"Can you please stop before I fall on my angelblade in an attempt to unsee this?" Balthazar moans.

Dean laughs against Cas' mouth, simply happy for once. Turning to the side, Cas still pecks the corner of his lips a few times like he can't quite stop. It wasn't enough. He would never get enough of kissing Dean.

Gabriel claps once. "So! Let's go laugh at Dean-o trying to fly."

Dean is a clumsy angel. He continuously hits himself with his own wings in an attempt to get off the ground and seems to think moving his arms up and down has something to do with it. The third time he lifts a few feet in the air before dropping abruptly to hit the ground hard. Castiel bends down just in time to hear the end of a string of expletives.

"Good," Cas says smiling in what he believes an encouraging way. Dean huffs because he knew he wasn't doing good. "Again."

Sighing, Dean bends his knees to jump and push off the ground like he saw Cas do, he lifts up with a powerful push of his wings and is startled to suddenly be 15 feet in the air. Then regrettably, drops.

Getting up on his hands and knees, Dean cranes his neck to see Castiel. "I'm shit at this."

His brothers are almost falling over one another chuckling to themselves. "Why don't you try flapping like a chicken again? That seemed to be working out rather well I thought."

"Can it, Fabio," Dean calls over his shoulder to Balthazar.

"You're doing great for your first time," Castiel says trying to sound optimistic. Just seeing Dean with wings, made him hot and excited, so he didn't really have to reach for that cheerful mood he was in. Every time he lifts into the air, no matter how briefly, it causes a hitch in his breathing at the desire thrumming through him. To see Dean like this... he never thought to even fantasize about it. He would always want Dean. But this was an entirely new want. He ached to bury his hands in all of those gorgeous feathers, to learn every noise and shutter he could force out of him. To taste him…

"Mmm hmm," Dean rolls his eyes. "Okay." He claps, rubbing his hands together in determination and points his face at the sky like he'd seen Cas do. He jumps and actually manages to get the damn things to obey his will and flap downward once, twice, which sends him rocketing up over twenty feet in a gust of air, then when he they don't move down again quick enough, he promptly falls back to the earth with a heavy thud and eats dirt.

"Goddamnit!"

Both angels clap, Gabriel whistling in the distance. "We should have brought score cards."

"We could probably go get some..." Balthazar offers.

"Ignore them." Castiel comes to help him back to his feet and dust the dirt off his back, taking possibly too long as he gets distracted by Dean shaking and stretching his wings out unknowingly.

"Dude, this isn't nearly as cool as I always imagined it'd be."

"You imagined this?" his attention snaps back to Dean's face.

"Well yeah… when I was a kid. You kinda made an impression on me if you didn't realize." Dean sounds more annoyed than flirtatious but it still makes Castiel smile.

"Have you ever swam?" he asks suddenly.

"What?"

"Swam in water? Have you?"

"Course I have."

"How do you keep afloat?"

"Uh, you just kick your legs."

"Trying imagining flapping your wings is like kicking your legs to keep afloat but in the air."

It's a start. Dean does get a little higher this time. Dizzyingly high. So high it makes his stomach dip with he inevitably loses momentum and Castiel has to rush to catch him this time to lessen the impact.

"Dammit Cas!" His heart is beats too quick, obviously not dealing well with his lingering fright over heights. "I can't do this, okay! I'll just be the non-flying kind of angel."

"You're thinking too hard, Sport," Gabriel calls and jumps down from the fence they'd been watching from to walk towards them.

"Shut up."

Balthazar shakes his head. "Kids today. No respect for their elders."

"What do you mean, Gabriel?" Castiel asks.

"It's something natural. Instinctual. Like learning how to breathe. You already know how to do it. You just have to stop thinking about it so much."

"And how the fuck am I supposed to not think about these big ass wings attached to me?"

Balthazar smirks. "That, I believe, is up to Cassie."

"Huh?"

Castiel had been frowning between them but now looks at Dean, considering him with squinty blue eyes that he somehow doesn't trust all of the sudden.

"I don't get it. How the hell would he-"

Grabbing his face with both hands, Cas tugs him forward to mash their lips together. It's messy, hard, and overwhelmingly hungry all at once. Like going from zero to sixty.

"Cas!" he splutters, trying to take a step back. Kissing like _that_ wasn't on his list of things to do in front of your family but his angel just holds him in place and follows after him step for step, running his hands up his back. Dean gets held flush against his front when those hands smooth over his ass.

If he absolutely needed to breathe, he would be gasping. Even so he forgets he doesn't and starts sucking air but it's just Cas' breaths. He forgets Gabriel, Balthazar, that he's an angel and any of the carnage and crap from the last week. Last months. All there is… is Cas. Pressing close and tasting so good. His sweet scent is all around him now. "Mmm," Dean involuntarily moans into his mouth, curling fingers into his shirt.

"Good job, Dean-o! Don't look down!"

It doesn't penetrate the fog. Cas eventually eases up for some stupid reason and nips his lips, jaw and then below his ear. He's still gripping him tight but then slowly steps back... Or rather moves back since when he blinks, Dean sees somehow they're off the ground. Way off the ground. As in the ground is a distance fucking memory. Cas smiles at him in something like smug satisfaction.

"Wait!" Dean drops a foot but catches himself by moving his wings down. Cas lowered with him with arms outstretched but took them back when Dean flaps again and keeps himself in place.

"Ha! Fucking look at that!" Dean laughs with pride then looks down and almost throws up when he sees Gabriel and Balthazar about 50 feet below him, waving. He closes his eyes and feels Cas' arms around his middle again.

"Are you alright, Dean?" he whispers gravelly deep into his ear.

Dean nods stiffly and just focuses on breathing. In and out. Gabe must have flow up to them because his voice is now next to him. "Funny meeting you here."

Creaking one eye open then the next, Dean's just in time to see Balthazar do a graceful back flip midair. Then he slowly flies around them backwards in a large circle, with arms casually folded behind his head. Show off.

After a few more sickening seconds, Dean can bear to look at them all. As long as he doesn't look down. This had to be the most ridiculous thing ever. An angel with a fear of heights.

"It'll get easier." Castiel takes his hand and laces their fingers, attempting to offer assurance.

"It already is." Dean smiles with strain. He hadn't tossed his cookies yet. That had to be a good sign right?

When Balthazar smacks him lightly on the back of the head and flies out of his reach, Dean takes off after him instantly before he realizes what he did and halts again. Cautiously, he tries to fly backwards in one direction, then forwards again towards Cas holding out his hands like he was on roller skates or something. Okay, if only he thought about getting somewhere and not what his body was already doing... he just couldn't stop to think about it too much or he'd sink like a stone. Like his strings were cut. Don't lose your happy thought, Wendy.

For about a half hour, both brothers look bored as Dean tries flying towards Cas while he flew backwards. It was kinda fun because when he caught him, Cas made sure to make it worth the trip, catching his lips a little longer each time. Dean didn't really know how to brake yet so it was mostly just crashing into him, but Cas didn't seem to mind one bit.

After a particularly long congratulatory liplock, where Cas is whispering praise and stroking his cheek, Gabriel perks up suddenly. "Hey! We should play Tootsie Pop!"

+++ +++ +++ +++ 

Dean gasps on his back hoping this _game_ was freaking over. If one more angel barreled into him midair and body slammed him into the dirt, he was going to start pulling hair. The bastards didn't fight fair.

Cas grabs his forearm and pulls him to his feet, running fingers through his hair to dust off the dirt. He was even freaking smiling.

"Enjoying yourself?" Dean grumbles and rubs his sore shoulder.

"Immensely." The grins widens. "You know how I enjoy seeing you on your back."

Dean grunts and rolls his eyes.

No matter how many times Cas tried to assure him he could take being smacked into the ground at high speeds, in fact he could take a bullet and just heal it, it would take a long time before he believed it. Even though, he was now watching the skin of his bicep knit together over a gash from skidding in the grass. "Jesus, that's so friggin' weird."

"See? Good as new." Gabriel calls down from ten feet above them. "Isn't it our duty to take a baby angel under wing and show him the ropes?"

"You're welcome," Balthazar sing songs.

Cas walks a little away from him, distracted by approaching figures in the far distance as Gabriel lands followed by Balthazar.

"You got some lookie loos." Gabriel throws an arm around his shoulders and gestures unnecessarily for Dean. His vision is something out of a scify movie now. Even in the dark he can see six angels walking towards them slowly as if giving time for them to observe their arrival. Dean tenses but Cas' face lights up with a gentle smile so it must not be bad.

"They're curious."

"About what?" Dean frowns.

"You."

Dean's lip curls. He didn't like that one bit. "Awesome. I'm a side-show attraction."

"You are very attractive," Cas agrees, without turning to him.

Shaking his head, Dean rolls his eyes but grins.

They all are reasonably normal looking except the massive wings he can now see high above their shoulders. They're all different varieties of browns, golds, no white like Gabriel or black like Cas but still they're pretty intimidating. But they all seem wary if not cautiously inquisitive of him. Several hang back but one he surprisingly does know comes forward.

"Hello brother," Hael says calmly with hands clasped in front of her.

Castiel nods in greeting. "Hello, Hael. You've met Dean I believe?"

"Yes." She lowers her eyes and her cheeks flush prettily. "I am sorry I tried to kill you."

Dean laughs outright as Cas' eyebrows furrow. "Hey forget it. No harm no foul, right?"

She smiles and looks at him from under her eyelashes.

Gabriel lifts his chin back in the direction of the other angels. "I think Inias wants you, Castiel. Or he's developed the need to urinate and desperately needs a bathroom."

Dean follows his line of sight and watches Cas walk over to the nervously shifting angel that looks like he could be any kid that works at Starbucks. He only briefly darts a glance at Dean before averting his eyes like maybe he's afraid of him or something which is a kinda funny. Gabriel's joke about the bathroom has Dean wondering if he doesn't have to pee anymore either. Man, the angel perks were just piling up.

Glancing back, he realizes Hael is still just standing in front of him, staring really. He knew angels weren't up on social niceties but it had him smiling awkwardly in return. When she still doesn't say anything after more than a half a minute, Dean starts grasping at anything to fill the silence. Seeing her silver cuff he asks the only thing he could think of. "So uh you're a fledgling?"

"Yes. I am new to interacting with humans."

No shit.

"Well you're doing alright."

"You are no longer a human," she reminds him.

"Yeah. Right. Gotta try to remember that." Sarcasm was thankfully something most angels were utterly clueless about. "Guess it'll take some getting used to."

"Do you need any help adapting?" She steps a little closer and seems to be preoccupied with his wings.

"Oh I uh.. thanks but uh.." Dean checks where Cas was absently. All the other angels are hanging on his every word while he occasionally gestures Dean's way. Turning back, he jumps a little to see Hael so close.

"I believe you were intimate with Castiel while he was still a fledgling?"

Feeling himself flush, Dean hopes he wasn't turning noticeably red. Out of the corner of his eye he sees Balthazar bump Gabriel with his elbow while they watch Dean flail. They weren't gonna be any help. Surprise, surprise. It wasn't her fault, he reminds himself. Angels were invasive bastards. This was absolutely not a pass. Personal space.. right? He had to remind Cas of that frequently when they first met. But seeing how that turned out…

"Well uh... We were close I guess."

She steps even further into his space and looks him steadily in the eye, those wide-eyes seeming less innocent and more determined suddenly. "Perhaps we could be close as well, Dean Winchester."

Okay, at this point he was pretty sure she was coming onto him. This little thing of an angel had within a few moments gone from curious to intimidating, eying him up and down as if trying to figure out what sex positions she wanted to try first. Shit, where the hell was Cas? What was the protocol for politely telling your angel boyfriend's sister, thanks but no thanks? When he looks to Balthazar and Gabriel they only grin unhelpfully.

Dean swallows nervously as she touches just above his elbow and strokes up to rest on his shoulder. "I could use some instruction in such... intimate matters." Her small hand lifts off his shoulder, reaches back over it towards his wing. He arches it high above him unconsciously away from her reach but it only enthralls her more.

"They are as beautiful as I was told. I've never seen anything-"

Hael's wrist was grabbed abruptly and she's twisted away, falling to the ground with the rough movement. Sulking, she stares up at Castiel who looks ready to smite someone. His black wings are high and thrown out to their full intimidating span and god that was hot. Was it fucked up to be imagining those dark feathers rubbing over him all sweaty and naked right now? Yeah probably.

Dean quickly shakes himself out of ogling them and steps between them facing Hael. He feels Castiel like an angry wall behind him, pushing slightly. "Hey um Hael? I appreciate the offer but he's the only one I wanna be close with."

Hael got to her feet gracefully. "I apologize, I was not aware humans were so singular in their choice of partners."

Balthazar and Gabriel laugh. Something it seemed they would be doing a lot.

Straight-faced, she lifts her chin and adds, "Please let me know if your proclivities change."

He has to brace his arms to keep the angel at his back from stepping forward again and even so he slides forward a few feet in the grass.

"Yep, you'll be the first to know."

"Find your own human," Cas growls over his shoulder at her. Seriously. Growls. Now was not the time to tease him by bring up he wasn't human anymore.

She raises an eyebrow. As her mentor, Balthazar tries to sober and clear his throat, "shouldn't you be on patrol, Hael?"

"Yes, I believe so." She purses her lips tightly but doesn't walk away.

"Well off you go then, darling."

Watching her reluctantly leave with narrowed eyes, Cas dips his head to nose along his dark brown primary feathers. "Cas?" Dean asks, eyes a little wider as he takes in the remaining angels milling around as if to see more of a show. Heaven must be boring.

"Yes, Dean?" Castiel makes eye contact with several of them over Dean's shoulder as he runs hands over his chest under the shirt they'd found him. Flushed at the weird territorial display, he seems to be starting; Dean tries to stop his hands from wandering. Cas only continues and nips at his ear now. Barely catching the moan in his throat by coughing, he attempts to step out of his embrace but Cas grips his hips and grinds hard against his ass, inhaling deeply into his feathers at the same time.

"Whoa. Tone it down there, hotwings. There's like half a dozen of your-" Dean bit his lip to not make a sound when Cas reaches up under his right wing and clutch a handful of feathers, beginning to mouth his neck. Fuuuck, he mentally sighs.

"Not. Here. C'mon, Cas..."

While sucking hotly over Dean's pulse with a painfully low voice, Cas says, "Then you had better leave _here_ because I am suddenly finding it very difficult to stop."

Jesus fuck. When Cas' hand comes around his hip and actually palms his groin, Dean breaks away all at once and runs two steps then pushes off. Thankfully he'd gotten at least this down by now. Back on the ground, Cas closes his eyes to let him get as far as he can as his siblings voices murmur low. He only makes it a few seconds before he opens them, grins and shoots into the air after him.

"Game over then?" Balthazar laughs after them but it fades with distance.

Dean flies hard as he's able, working new muscles in his back. He doesn't even think about the rushing ground beneath him. He still stretches out his arms in an attempt to make him move faster, though Cas has told him repeatedly it doesn't help. Too quickly he's tired but trying to get as far away as possible. Cas is somewhere behind him, doesn't look back. The sound of rustle of feathers, has him gasping with a unexpected thrill. It's like that damn game all over again but anticipation is knotting in his gut now at being caught.

Less than a minute later, he crashes into him and they plummet. Cas rolls mid-air, turning at the last moment to open his wings so their impact isn't as hard. But still he lands roughly in high grass.

Dean barely has a moment to cough and get up on his elbows before he's shoved back down flat.

"Cas?" he gasps while he begins ripping and tearing just enough to get his pants open.

"Dean... you smell..." Cas' blue eyes flash bright with an intimidating heat, making him seem almost possessed. "Very good to me right now." Every move is too rough, the bite of hard fingers scratching in their haste only adds to Dean being right there with him. Dean grabs his shoulders to kiss him but Cas is too impatient. He seems only able to focus on his mouth a few seconds before turning his face to rub his scratchy cheek against Dean's jaw then flipping him so roughly it pushes the air out of his lungs. His wings closed tight to his back but when Cas licks up his spine they shoot open involuntarily.

Crawling over him, he mouths and bites at the nape of Dean's neck as he says, "I did not like her near you. Like that."

"Yeah I could tell," Dean laughs breathily then groans when a tongue licks along his new wing bone.

Cas yanks his jeans and boxers down to knees, not taking the time for anything more. "Impatient much?" Dean sits back on haunches, trying to sound cocky but ends up huffing out a needy breath when Cas presses suddenly warm oil covering fingers inside him. Without asking. Without pausing. Everything's happening so fast. And that was fucking fine with him.

Hooking the other arm around his torso, Cas drags his lips along the back of his neck to the side at his pulse while pushing another finger in. "You're warmer."

"Mmm.. er, What?" he asks a little dazed.

"You've never been warm to me. I didn't mind... But now…" He strokes the fingers of his other hand down his back to where the wing grows out of his back then follows it up inspecting the joints.

When blunt nails rake and burrow, Dean shivers. "Holy shit. Why does that feel so damn good?"

"Just wait until I touch you..." He drags fingers through Dean's feathers while he gasps. "Here." Cas strokes over the small hidden knob he didn't even know was there and his knees buckle. Cas catches him and lowers him to lean forward on his hands.

"Fuck," he pants. "That's what you feel every time I touch there?"

"When we're younger we're helped with cleaning our wings.. I never felt anything like this. But when you do it.." And he touches them again.

Dean wings thrashes of their own accord and whips downward. He frowns, seeing a few drops of blood splatter on the ground to his left.

"You cut me," Cas grunts a little bemused, his hand has a decent slice over his palm.

"What?" Dean's mind is foggy. Cas was hurt.. he should.. should..

Cas pushes him back down to his hands and knees and kisses his spine again soothingly. "Don't worry about it. It was my own fault for not watching you.." Cas reaches up, circling and rocking over the gland with a thumb as Dean gets damn close to whimpering, digging fingers into the dirt with eyes squeezed shut.

"You're dangerous... " Cas rumbles into his ear and bites it.

"Fuck... Casss.. Uhhh.." The noises he makes are desperate and new. He wouldn't have thought his voice could break that way but when Cas runs his erection along the cleft of his ass he almost sobs, pushing increasingly harder, firmer, rubbing through his feathers with his other hand.

Dean starts grinding back against his stiffness out of reflex; hips needing to move with those intense sexual zings in a mock of sex. Cas rubs oil _there_ and immediately follows. Dean cries out from dual sensations of fingers swirling over that amazing gland thing he had now and Cas pushing deep inside him.

"I can see why you enjoy doing this to me." Cas sighs deeply, groaning as he holds Dean's hip and bucks forward. Breathes hitching rhythmically, Dean looks over his shoulder just as Cas takes his hand away and brings it to his mouth. For some reason seeing the other angel licking his oil off his fingers sends a primal emotion through him. He doesn't begin to understand it, but everything inside him tenses at once.

"Cas, Stop…" he barks but has to take a breath before continuing. "Stop doing that." Dean digs his fingers into the ground to keep himself put, closing his eyes briefly but opening them again to check what he was doing.

Eyes darkening, Cas smiles knowingly. Speeding up his hips for a second, with his right hand holding the small of his back, he talks between gasps. "You taste... Like violence, Dean. Spicy. It burns my tongue." He licks his bottom lip clean lewdly.

"Damnit… Cas!" he growls in warning but he just smiles around the pad of his thumb and sucks it with his eyes shutting tight, putting on a show.

Dean grits his teeth. He goes down on his forearms, trying not to think about Cas licking his lips. Trying just to focus on the slapping of skin, relentless pounding of hips not holding back but it stays in his mind. Building. Driving him. Pushing him. Watching Cas take him into him.. Needed to follow and attack push and overtake him so his smell drowns him. More he thinks, grinning all wrong. More. Cas should want to be covered in him. Needs to be. He closes his eyes and can't help turning his head back. His lips are shiny with Dean's oil. Chin too. Cas tongue licks his over his own palm now too as if searching for any last remnants and that's all it takes.

His brain doesn't enter into any of the next few seconds. It's all instinct, slightly feral as Dean knocks him back with his wing when he turns quick and pushes Cas off. The frenzied thoughts peak as he launches from his knees at him. Castiel doesn't seem surprised but excited as he fights back, rolling and wrestling and fighting for dominance. Dean wins this time. He's riding this high on whatever this aggressive surge is inside him and actually shoves Cas down on the ground with both hands and moves them up to capture his wrists.

Cas only smiles up at him, sucking his bottom lip between his teeth. Dean leans forward in what Cas assumes is to kiss him but instead lines himself up and lowers onto him this time. All the way down, he sits back until Cas is throbbing deep inside him, bottoming out. It's tight but his body makes room. The deep cry Cas lets fall out of his mouth is satisfying and has Dean shifting his hips to ride him without any of the usual inhibition he might have felt trying this position. Dean closes his eyes as Cas just looks up at him smiling with wonder and bliss and eagerness. Yanking his wrists back out of his hold, Cas grabs his hips but continues to let Dean lead and sink down on him over and over.

Dean bites and sucks and mashes their mouths almost too violent to be called kissing. It's rough and he moves his mouth down his chin and neck. Grazing teeth down his collar bone. Marking him over and over in a dozen places. Panting almost in time with his hips canting. His wings twitch and rise high, proud, doing something he doesn't even understand but Cas' eyes widen and he fights to get up again with a hand in the grass. Dean grabs his wrists and presses him down, kissing him hard and swallowing his name.

Dean finally arches up, grabbing the backs of Cas' thighs painfully hard and releasing violently without touching himself. It spurts up the chest below him as he grinds with Cas inside him, rocking forward slower and slower until he's gasping out a harsh breath.

Cas runs a finger up his stomach and levels him with a dark gaze while he sucks his finger clean. Dean spasms once more watching him and Cas drops his head back in the grass, then immediately opens his eyes again. Dean grunts softly when Cas starts thrusting upwards and kneading his hips harder than he'd ever done before. It would have been painful if he was human. But he wasn't human. Dean falls forward at the rough bone-jarring movements while Cas makes deep mewling noises and speeds up. Faster. Faster. Harder. Deeper into Dean and he just hangs on, presses their chests together and Cas brings his arms up to wrap around his back and clutches him, one hand hooked onto his shoulder to keep him in place.

"Dean." His name sounds like something more falling out of Cas' mouth like that. Like it's a prayer or sacred word of a spell. Something too much.

And then he shoves forward, holding him still as he pulses inside him.

"Uhh.." Dean breathes out deep, shivering against him and kissing his cheek weakly. Cas shudders through the next half minute and slowly untenses and becomes more gentle. Running fingers reverently down his back as he holds Dean collapsed onto top of him.

"Your back is healed. I wasn't sure if you knew."

Dean opens his eyes but doesn't say anything. He didn't know really what to think about that. Cas' finger tips glide down his smooth skin without hitting the rough jagged marks to bump over... he clung a little tighter without realizing it.

Dean finally slid off to fall into Cas' warm side. He doesn't mind the arm curled around him like he might once have. He might even drape his arm over Cas' stomach in return. Everything felt too right to worry about searching for a reason why it'd be wrong. His thoughts drift away while the quiet noises of night surround them. He didn't sleep.. he was pretty sure he couldn't anymore.. but it was close.

Eventually he props his head up with his hand and looks over Cas. "I have to go home to Sam."

Castiel remains lying on his back and moves his fingers down Dean's upper thigh and up his ribs. "I know."

Dean chews his lip absently, not sure what he was expecting.

"Must we take your car? It is slow and confining."

His lips upturn slowly. "We?"

Cas does sit up now, eyes unwavering and almost fierce. "We."

Dean nods and tries to seem casual as a warm and fuzzy feeling blooms through his chest. Glancing around, he almost laughs noticing the mix of feathers strewn around them. Castiel's black and a few of Dean's spotted. Cas picks one up idly and rubs it over his lips.

Dean grins watching and leans forward to burrow his face into his neck. "Mmm you smell like me. I know what that means now." Rubbing his nose over Cas' skin and finding it oddly comforting, Dean sighs, "Jesus, let's never stop doing this."

"Feasibly, we would need to rest eventually even taking into account your enhanced endurance..." Breath hitching when Dean nips his neck teasingly he adds, "but I agree we should do this very often."

+++ +++ +++ +++

"Dar- _bess_."

"Yeah, I said it just like that."

"No you said Darbsy. Which means goatherder. You do not want to confuse the two words, trust me."

They start to make their way back. The slow way. But Dean wouldn't hear of leaving his baby anywhere and just because he had an alternate mode of transportation, didn't mean he was ready to fly cross country. Flight still made him a little queasy but he had to admit he was gaining confidence. Cas helped. He found new and interesting ways of distracting him each time to take his mind off the fact he was hundreds then thousands of feet up.

The car ride is uncomfortable. After learning to drive with his wings, he now had an appreciation for why the angels seemed to hate being cooped up. He kept twisting in his seat, his wings feeling stiff and there was a niggling reminder of wrongness that never went away. Like a cramped muscle. It felt annoying but he stubbornly refused to admit it and Cas only grinned at him without complaint. During the drive, he begins to teach him Enochian. Dean didn't see a reason why he would ever need it but Cas was excited about teaching him everything now. The first week was scary and new and they weren't sure he had come out the other side intact. Now that Cas seemed to accept that he would really getting to keep Dean and no angels were going to come and put him down like a Frankenstein creation… Cas was downright exuberatant.

And horny. He was hellbent on making up for lost time. Dean was too but Cas seemed almost addicted to him now and took every opportunity.. and made several opportunities when non presented themselves to jump his bones and have Dean moaning within moments. Any of their many "wing-stretching" breaks often dissolved into frantic and hard Dean-stretching breaks instead.

Before they'd left, Dean agreed he'd need a tutorial on the basics. So they'd practiced back at his childhood home, sitting in chairs and walking around, flinching and grimacing every time something passed through his wings. It took him a day or two to get the hang of not just knocking over anything and everything around him as he navigated through tight quarters. It was if now he took up too much space. Just because he knew his wings were able to slide right through the back of the chair, didn't mean he could always focus enough to believe it and make it happen. Sometimes the chair fell over instead. He felt like a damn bull in a china shop.. but with some patient coaching and mental "exercises" with Cas he seemed to be able to do it. Most of the time. Some of the time. He'd get better…

They probably should have spent longer on it but he was eager to get back to Sam. He'd fully expected never to see his brother or the rest of his surrogate family again and now that he knew he would, Dean felt antsy to get back. Like something, anything else would happen and he'd never see them again. So they practiced on the way. And the first test would be Charlie.

Dean had insisted they go and check her out to make sure Crowley had kept his promise, the weasley prick. He insisted. Him. This was his idea.. yet now that his tenuous control was going to be under pressure, he was losing confidence fast. Dean shifts from foot to foot, hand still at his side instead of ringing the blue and yellow doorbell. It looks silly really. Happy and chipper even for a doorbell. Something he expect to see outside Charlie's home.

"Would you like to do this tomorrow? We can spend another day practicing," Cas offers quietly from behind him.

Dean clears his throat. "Nah. Let's get this over with."

He rings the silly doorbell and waits. Several seconds later, Charlie opens the door and smiles at him in greeting.

"Hey, Winchester. Didn't expect to see you again." She steps forward and embraces him easily. Dean breathes out shallowly, feeling her arms encircle his back. Then she's letting go and holding up a hand in greeting to Cas behind him. "Hi, Cas."

"Hello, Charlie," he returns her smile and checks on Dean with his eyes.

"Well come in!" She walks back inside and Dean takes one last second to hold the image of himself without wings in his mind before following.

"Can I get you guys anything? Lemonade? Mountain Dew? Fanta.. sorry I kinda have an addiction to sugar. I think I have some-"

"No. Uh.. thanks. I just wanted to talk to you about.. ya know the deal you made."

Charlie's natural bubbly demeanor just evaporates as she sinks down to the over-stuffed couch behind her. "Oh.." Looking a little lost she says, "I- I don't really want to talk about that."

Dean steps closer and gingerly sits on the edge of the couch next to her. The nagging feeling of wrongness makes him want to shift his weight or arch his wings out and away from his body but he remains still. Think of yourself without wings. He's looking at himself in a mirror. No wings. No wings.

"No.. it's good." Dean looks back to Cas to confirm it before he tells her and Cas smiles small and nods. Turning back, he reaches forward and squeezes her hand. "Charlie, it's okay. You're free."

"What?" She jerks her head up suddenly and he sees her eyes were red.

"Yeah, it was no big deal but I had that dick Crowley cornered-"

"What?" She repeats like she didn't hear any of it the first time

Dean grins and reaches up both hands to her face and looks right in her eyes. "Your soul is yours again, kid. Try to hang onto it this time. No bartering it in any poker games or anything."

Charlie's mouth falls open and she sniffles and laughs at herself. Then abruptly throws her arms around him again and bowls him over into the couch. Dean gasps at the sudden movement and falls on his ass in his haste to get out of her arms. When he gets up and whirls, Dean promptly knocks the tableside lamp so hard with his wing that it hits the opposite wall.

"Shit… sorry."

"How?" She squints her eyes and points from him to the broken lamp about fifteen feet away. The table had been too far for him to hit with his body. But not too far for his stupid klutzy wings.

"Uh, forget it," Even as he says it, a picture falls off the wall several more feet away from his other wing twitching nervously. "Goddamnit!"

"That's you? How is that you?" Charlie jumps to her feet tilting her head in confusion.

At the notice he panics, feeling as though both his unruly wings were going to lift him up of their own accord. Just as he tenses, Cas silently reaches out and quickly grabs his hand. Dean closes his eyes and focuses on the place where they join. His thumb rubs over the top of Dean's hand and just like that it calms him.

Breathing out a few more times, Dean sighs and opens them to see Charlie's raised eyebrows and questioning stare.

"Sorry. I'm good now." He turns over his shoulder and nods gratefully at Cas. "Really, I'm good." He squeezes Cas' hand and let's go. Turning to Charlie, he says, "So uh.. you know how I explained about being a Hunter and everything?"

"Yeah you're like Buffy with a gun instead of a stake."

Dean had to laugh even as he felt Cas look to him in confusion at that. "Completely did not say that but whatever works for you." Charlie nods and smiles, apparently very happy to imagine Dean out fighting evil on a schoolnight.

"Anyway, with my last big showdown, there were some… complications."

Charlie's eyebrows rise in something like hopeful excitement. "Complications. Like telekinesis?"

She can't see the wings he reminds himself even though they feel like a bulky neon sign. How does Cas handle being indoors? He feels just too big for any kind of walls.

"What else can you move? Can you move me? The couch? Or are your powers all destructive until your angel boyfriend-"

She stops mid-sentence and looks from Cas to Dean then back at the table to gauge how far it was. He sees the light in her eyes as she figures it out.

"Ohmygoddean!" She yells in one word making Cas jump.

A half hour later he was hugging Charlie goodbye and promising to come back and visit. And fly for her. Her promise, not his.

Walking back to the car, he mutters, "Told you I'd make a sucky angel."

Cas grabs his arm abruptly and pulls him up short. Dean rolls his eyes, and tries to get away. "Dean, look at me."

He huffs and does without any enthusiasm.

"You have only been an angel for a handful of days. Most have hundreds of years to adjust to their wings and then even longer to learn to hide them from humanity. You are not a sucky angel. You are the most startling beautiful angel I have ever seen."

Dean sighs and still keeps his eyes down.

"But as for sucking…"

Dean flicks his eyes up at the coy tone Cas had. He was reminding him of the previous day when Dean had made that leap and kissed his way down his body. The sounds Cas made… every nervous swipe of his tongue and pull of his lips had forced out a new and hot noise from Cas' mouth and it spurred him on so he forgot any apprehension he might have once had about doing that. It was just another way to make Cas come and come he did. The memory makes him instantly hard and Cas sucking his bottom lip into his mouth slowly was only adding to it.

"Well I don't mind if you're a sucky angel at all."

The following day, they stop at a little bungalow house. Overflowing flowerbeds and healthy fruit trees make it seem inviting from the street. Cas tells him he can remain in the car if he wants but he can tell whatever is inside is important to him.

A man named Robert is inside.

Dean sits on a comfy couch, keeping his wings tight to his back and managing not to have a spazz episode this time. He learns this is where Cas' sister lived. Anna. The one who's grace had made him into what he was now.

He's quiet as Cas asks questions about her life with what appears to be her husband. Occasionally he's teary-eyed over a story but the middle-aged man seems eager and even happy to tell every story he can think of. Dean slides glances to Cas' profile every once and a while but he has his best blank-face on. As they stand to leave, Cas pauses to look at a few pictures, settling on one of just her. She's pretty. Smirking behind a flower she's holding, red hair flowing around her like a halo.. as clichéd as that sounds. Robert wordlessly hands him the one he's looking at, frame and all.

Dean sits with him in the car a long time after that, not turning the key because Cas is just staring ahead without answering to his name. Not knowing what to say, Dean scoots across the seat and grabs a handful of his shirt to pull him close. Cas immediately turns into the embrace and tightens his arms around Dean too hard in return. He doesn't have to say anything as it turns out.

+++ +++ +++ +++

Finally it was the day when they turn a corner and were suddenly back. Only maybe twenty minutes away.

"You're nervous," Castiel says unnecessarily.

"Hole in one."

"There is no need. Everything is okay now. Better than okay."

"Yeah well, let's just see how it goes."

"Are you ashamed of me?" Cas asks quietly with his head tilted.

"What?" Dean turns to him in surprise. "No. What gave you that dumb idea?"

"I know you might have... lingering issues accepting your choice of partners. Now that it is time to introduce me to your family..." he shrugs.

"Hey." Dean ducks his head to catch his eyes. When Cas glances away out the window, he sighs and pulls off on the shoulder.

"Hey, look at me." He reaches up and turns his face. Cas raises an eyebrow in seemingly unconcerned question but there's anxiety around the edges of that expression.

"You're everything I ever wanted. Like this or... even if I had been human and it was just for a little while.. even if I was a eighty stuck in some nursing home and you were still annoyingly hot.. I'd want you."

"Because you love me." Castiel smiles small but it's a challenge. Dean has never said it to him, not really. Not when he didn't think he was going to die. Not to his face. He wonders if he'll be able to say it now. Perhaps this would be too much for him so directly but still he asks it.

Dean looks him right in the eye, pausing like he's gathering courage then slowly and clearly says, "Because I love you."

Castiel takes a moment to stare into his green eyes, squinting slightly as if he needed to judge the truth of his words then smiles broadly.

Dean is waiting for something then just simply nods and turns the key again. Castiel shakes himself, realizing he was guilty of the same thing. Putting a hand over his on the key, he turns the car off with his hand over Dean's then shifts to straddle his lap, facing him with thighs splayed over Dean's. He needed to be close. This was important. Dean naturally drops his hands to his hips and laughs a little bemused.

"Yes?"

Castiel rests his hands on either side of his neck, thumb brushing his jawline and says very seriously, "I love you, Dean. With everything I am or ever will be."

Dean's eyes slide away the way they do whenever he praises him but he couldn't let him get away with it this time. Castiel held him in place with firm fingers, forcing eye contact so he would know how much he meant this.

Dean swallows and eventually nods in acknowledgement, squeezing his hips gently and Castiel flicks his eyes down to his mouth. Slowly they kiss, taking their time on the side of a busy highway in Nebraska. They would return to Sam, but a few more minutes wouldn't matter.

Finally, he's emotionally ready for this and even a little less nervous. Cas was by his side and it felt like that made it easier. Explaining to your family that you weren't human anymore and might need to pop out to the backyard for flying practice.. I mean how was he even supposed to begin that conversation?

Jo comes out first, apparently hearing the growl of the Impala's engine. The dog races past her and skids to a halt about five feet away. He ducks his head and growls low in his throat.

Frowning at their usually sweet family dog, Jo says, "Sorry, don't know why he's doing that."

"I do," Castiel says, tightening his wings to his back.

Ellen strides up behind her daughter and yells at the dog to get inside. "Dean! You found your way back to us finally. Took your sweet ass time, Boy. And you brought a friend." She smiles broadly with eyes crinkling at the corners. "Who's this handsome devil?"

"Oh this is Cas.. uh Castiel."

Castiel sticks out his hand like he remembered Dean doing to greet someone new. Ellen looks him up and down. "Oh... OH! Well c'mere, Son." She pulls him by the hand into a tight hug. Over his shoulder she asks, "It's like that, huh?"

Jo points from Cas to Dean behind his back and mouths, "This is him?"

Dean smiles, face heating and rubs the back of his neck. "Yep."

"Well I should tan your hide for making Dean so miserable-" she pokes Cas in the ribs suddenly until he frowns.

Dean mutters to him conspiratorially. "Don't worry, she likes you."

Sam walks up last with hands in his pockets. "Hey," he says with lips pressed tight, obviously controlling himself.

"Sam." Dean grins wide and scoops him up to hug him tight not even caring he was acting like a moody teenager.

Sam does hold him back just as tight after only a few seconds of resistance. Dean drops him and ruffles his hair. "Sorry. Just felt like a really long time since I saw you."

"It was a long time." He rolls his eyes still a little annoyed.

"Yeah well not anymore."

"Uh huh."

"No really. From now on-"

"Who's this?"

Dean straightens feeling immediately guilty for delaying and now nervous to introduce Cas who is patiently waiting, listening to something Jo was saying about a few prized embarrassing photos of toddler Dean her mom had.

"Oh, Sammy. I wanna introduce you to Cas." He gestures then seems lost for a minute. "He's uh… well he's my um.."

Castiel steps forward and says simply, "I'm Dean's."

Dean swallows and smiles a little stupidly. Yeah, that about summed it up.

Sam eyes him up and down, then narrows his eyes. "Why do you look kind of familiar?"

Castiel raises an eyebrow. "You used to call me Superman."

Dawning realization slowly lights in Sam's eyes and his mouth opens just as Dean groans.

"What?!"

Sam starts with the questions but Dean tries to corral everyone inside. "Just go in the backyard and I'll be there in a sec." Sam eyes him distrustfully like he'll bolt before he answers anything but Dean just turns back to Cas.

"Hey, I need a moment with him. Will you be okay with-"

"Of course."

"We'll' keep him busy," Ellen pats the cushion next to her on the couch heavier than necessary.

Dean's forehead creases in mock concern. "Why does that worry me?"

"We have some blanks Castiel here's gotta fill in so I don't kick his ass for making you miserable."

Castiel looks sideways at her. Then says, "Go speak with your brother." He squeezes his shoulder to get Dean going. "Quickly," he adds, looking back at the woman on the couch.

Stepping out into the backyard, he sees Sam sitting on the weathered picnic table just like their last big talk. This was beginning to be a habit.

Dean can't manage to just sit down, he's too antsy. The wings twitch with his nerves at his back but he keeps them closed trying to calm. Accidentally shooting into the air wasn't the way he wanted to start this conversation.

"Look I know you're still pissed at me."

Sam says, "No. I'm glad you made it back. Now who is that guy inside?" His voice is a little hollow like he's trying to fake indifference.

Dean tells him about knowing Cas from when he was a kid. He hesitates over how to even begin to explain what he was. What Dean was now too.

Sam nods but doesn't give anything back. Doesn't question or add anything like he's sure he wants to.

"C'mon Sam, say what's on your mind."

Dean didn't have the balls to just launch into the big bad meat of what he needed to say so he was shamelessly stalling.

Sighing, Sam shrugs and picks at the chipping paint on the table. "Is he going to hunt with you?"

"Cas? Well..." He hadn't really considered what they'd do now. "I guess. I mean, we haven't talked about it but probably."

"That's cool. I'm glad you're, ya know, happy." He doesn't sound glad.

"Sam, I'm back okay? I'm not taking off again. At least not like before."

Looking up he says skeptically, "Yeah, sure. How long until you're- you know what? Nevermind. We don't have to do this. You're leaving Cas alone with Ellen and Jo. Not super smart."

"Sam… you don't get it. I took out the demon that got Mom and Dad. It'll be different now. We'll have time-"

"Yeah you've said all this before, Dean, but you always leave. Just like.." he stops himself from finishing, but Dean hears it anyway. Dad. "Nothing's different…"

Dean almost laughs bitterly at how ridiculous that was.

"Everything's different! I'm different now!"

Sam actually rolls his eyes and cocks his head at him. He could practically see the sullen teenager emerging. "Yeah? Different how?"

Dean blew out a breath and ran nervous fingers through his hair. "Just different."

"Uh huh. I wish I believed you but it's just.. empty promises. You're always gonna leave. And now you have Cas and why would you need to come back. Which, whatever, it's fine. Just don't expect me to buy it anymore. I'm glad to see you but-"

"Just.. shut up a second." Dean rubs his temple with a thumb. He had to show him. His chest tightens, breathing picking up imagining what he was actually gonna do. Fuck it. Just get it over with. This was his brother. He'd understand. He hoped.

Taking a few steps back away from the table, Dean rolls his shoulders to open his wings, secretly delighting in the feeling of wind hitting the opening feathers. They stretch and rise behind him as he straightens.

"Wasn't expecting to do this anytime soon…"

"Do what?"

"Okay, so don't freak."

"Don't freak about what?"

When Dean just holds out a curt finger signaling 'hold on a damn minute and I'll show you', Sam folds his arms and leans back, obviously not expecting to be impressed by whatever Dean had to say next.

Closing his eyes, Dean breathes out and pushes his wings down once. He feels the weightlessness of being lifted, maybe ten feet in the air then drops easily to his feet. Ha. That was a damn sight more graceful than the previous few days. Hey he was improving.

Smiling nervously, Dean opens his eyes to see his brother's almost comically stricken face and gaping mouth.

"Sam..." He walks forward, palms out but Sam jumps off the table and almost trips over his feet trying to backpedal.

"Dean! Are you.. one of them? Are you a monster?!"

"What? Jesus, Sammy. No!" He lowers the angry tone because he couldn't blame Sam for coming to that conclusion. Even so, it's hard for him to just come out and say it so instead he goes with, "I'm uh, I'm like Cas." Sam looks back at the house in confusion, still pretty freaked. Christ, he was screwing this all up. "Remember that feather? It was his."

"Feather…" Sam puts it together then looks up at him. "You're an angel?"

Dean shrugs almost bashful, picking at his cuticles. It really did sound ridiculous.

"What does that even mean? How- He- What the hell, Dean?!"

"It's.. kind of a long story."

Sam raises an eyebrow then tentatively says, "Well we got time.. right?

Dean smiles truly and comes to sit next to him.

"Yeah we do."

+++ +++ +++ +++

Three weeks later: Thanksgiving

If you told Dean Winchester happiness would be sitting in front of a tv explaining why thousands of people wanted to stand out in the cold while inflatable cartoon characters slowly drove by, he would have laughed in your face. But instead here he was, laughing at the frown creasing Cas' forehead as he stares at the Snoopy float crawling down a crowded street to cheering masses. The house was filled with the tempting smells of a kitchen full of food. Cas hops up to check on something Ellen put him in charge of and Dean watches him go with an appreciation he can't seem to kick.

"Ughh, do you have to do that when I'm around?" Sam groans.

"What?" Dean straightens and took a swig off his beer.

"Check him out. You're like together all the time anyway. God.."

Dean rolls his eyes and focuses back on the tv.

It had been long and so so fun to explain to everyone what happened. And embarrassing. It involved a lot of encouraging nods from Cas and a "demonstration" of him turning bright red and lifting a few feet in the air in the backyard for Jo and Ellen. They both were talking at once before he even touched back down. But that was weeks ago and life almost seemed normal now. Normal for him at least.

Cas and him still practice Enochian, flying, all the other weird angely crap and he in turn showed Cas how to hunt. He didn't need to sleep which was still hard to get used to. They had hours and hours at night to fill. And they did. He didn't need to eat. But he still did. He didn't know all the tricks yet, magicking himself clean without taking a shower or something but they had time to learn. That was the best part. He had time now. Him and Sam. Him and Cas. Sam teased him about halos and harps. But when it came down to it, it was worth it.

Sometimes he needed a break. For them. For a day or two. Cas wasn't used to domestic life and in truth he wasn't either. After a week or so of family meals and comfortable routine, they'd go on a hunt or an extended flying lesson that turned into a chase but Sam wasn't tense like he used to be. He knew Dean would come back. That this was his home.

"C'mon Cas, we need to go on a cranberry sauce run." Dean spins his keys around his index finger, waiting by the door, grinning ear to ear.

Cas turns around and frowns at him and Dean swears he almost gets hard from it. Cas' frown does to him what a woman's hungry smile used to.

"Dean is cranberry sauce necessary? There is ample food here. I have no doubt there will be copious amounts remaining even after-"

"Yes, cranberry sauce is absolutely necessary," he says with hands in his pockets and rocking back and forth on his heels.

Castiel presses his lips, checking over his shoulder back at the kitchen. He already fit in so easily, planted himself in Dean's family and it felt good. They'd all adopted him like they'd done the family dog. If they ever saw Cas in action in the middle of a fight, they might not find it so cute when he asked his odd questions.

"Can you not go alone? Ellen requires my assistance in watching the progress of the gravy. Perhaps your brother-"

"Cas. I really need you specifically to come." C'mon Cas… catch up.

To Dean's relief, he nods slowly with a knowing look that's kind of adorable on his face. Then he calls behind him, "Ellen. Would you mind if I went with Dean? I believe he wants to be intimate before dinner."

Dean closes his eyes in embarrassment and groans. They were still working on subtlety.

Jo's giggle turns into a snort as she walks out of the kitchen. "I got it! Go be sinful, angels!"

Turning pink, Dean gruffly yells back, "Thanks for your approval but it's really just cranberry sauce."

"That what the kids are calling it these days?" She presses her lips but doesn't hide the smile and even winks

Dean rolls his eyes. "Hold down the fort. We'll be right back."

Dean jerks his chin towards the door at Cas as he opens it but almost jumps out of his skin when he sees two angels already standing on the other side.

"Hey, Barbie! How's our little fluffball doing, huh?"

"What are you guys doing here?" he asks incredulously.

"I invited them, Dean," Cas says from behind him, smiling big. "You said Thanksgiving was for family."

"But- but, it's uh Ellen's house and she-"

Cas interrupts to add, "I asked her first, of course."

"Ugh," Dean groans with the appropriate amount of exaggeration. "Thought I ditched you guys for good." Despite his annoyance at their raucous company, he has to admit it wasn't bad to see them. Especially because Cas looks so happy.

Balthazar puffs up his wings before keeping them tight to his back and slides past him. It was bizarre to be able to see it when almost no one else in the room could. "Do you really think we'd let you whisk our Cassie away to have your wicked way with him and not check in?

"Yes," Dean folds his arms.

"Well, hello," Balthazar says to an open-mouthed Jo. "And who is this-"

"Don't talk to him. Keep walking, Billy Idol."

He smirks and walks into the kitchen as Gabriel steps inside the doorway and takes in Cas' white short-sleeved button-up shirt and jeans. Dean had shown him about changing clothes if they were going to be hanging around any length of time in one place. He had to admit it was fun trying different looks out and he hated shopping. Cas in jeans… well they might have desecrated the men's changing room at Dillard's in the process of picking out a pair.

"Civies look good on you, Bro. Though I bet Dean-o still likes you in leather huh? Ohh candy yams." Gabriel pats Castiel on the back too hard so he steps towards the table with the force of it.

Ellen's voice comes from around the corner. "Hey, who's in my kitchen sticking his fingers in my pie?"

"Madam, who wouldn't want to stick a finger in your pie?" Balthazar's voice carries smoothly.

"Can it, blondie or I toss you outta here on your butt before you can say turkey."

Dean grabs Cas' hand and tugs him out the door before they can get caught up any longer in the madhouse that was Thanksgiving.

Driving right past the crowded grocery store, Dean finds a dead in road and drives until the end past houses for several minutes until there's no more road. Just wooded area.

"Correct me if I'm wrong but I don't believe there are any purveyors of canned fruit here." Cas is smiling a little smug at the window as the engine ticks.

"Shut up." Dean grabs the back of his neck and pulls him down for a kiss.

Between rubbing his lips and burying fingers in his hair Dean murmurs "we don't got long."

"Then I suggest you stop talking, Dean."

Cas hooks an arm around his back and drags Dean on top of him so he's sitting in his lap. Bunching fingers over his denim-covered hips, Cas grinds him against his stiff bulge. Between making out like the teenager he never was, Dean manages to get his pants off and Cas' open. It'd go quicker if they stopped kissing but that wasn't happening.

It was rushed and sloppy, Dean's hands gripping his shoulders while Cas' roam under his shirt and kneads his hips to rock him against his erection. Cas takes them both in one hand and squeezes them right together with each pump of his hand. Their deep groans mingle loudly in the cramped space.

"Unng," Dean moans between sucking and tugging Cas lip with his teeth to crash into a hard kiss again. "We shoulda started this outside."

Cas chuckles in the back of his throat. "You don't like being close to me?"

Knocking his head hard against the roof, a _guh_ noise fell out of Dean when Cas twists his palm gently over their wedged together heads, spreading pre-cum then stroking down the root.

Dean pants against his jaw. "Oh yeah. Clearly I hate it."

Letting his head fall against the back of the Impala's seat, he blatantly watches Dean.

"So you're saying you enjoy this then?"

Dean rolls his eyes back as Cas' hand picked up. "Uhh," he gasps. "You're being a dick...".

Castiel smiles, eyes dark and mischievous."No, I'm holding your dick." He squeezes then lets Dean go to continue to stroke only himself. "And I can stop if you wish... Perhaps we should get your cranberry sauce after all."

"Fuck the cranberry sauce!" Dean shouts, frustrated at the lack of friction now.

"I would rather fuck you..."

Dean almost groans at how dirty that sounds coming out of Cas' mouth. The longer they spent together; Cas was picking up on his colorful language and when to use it. And when he did, it drove Dean crazy. Something he was becoming increasingly aware of.

They didn't have time. Dean knew they didn't have time. Cas knew they didn't have time.

Even so, Dean's quickly reaching over Cas' shoulder focusing on where the gland was over the barrier of the seat. Another angel perk, lube at the ready.

Cas groans and bucks his hips forward involuntarily. When his fingers are coated, Dean only takes a few seconds to knock Cas' hand away from stroking himself. He encircles his thickening cock, gets him slick and shifts up almost bending over the seat before dropping back down to impale himself in one motion.

Cas cries out in surprise and throws his head back. Edging downward, Dean grins from an inch away despite the discomfort of taking him without any prep. With a few shallow slides up and down, it doesn't matter. His body adapts and takes everything Cas has to offer. Eagerly. And Cas doesn't stay idle long. Soon his eyes snap open and he slides a little further down the seat and plants his feet to thrust upward at a quick and dirty pace.

"Shit." Dean buries his face into his neck and mouths him while Cas holds him in place.

It builds and builds until Cas is gasping out his name and Dean is holding on to him with every bit of strength his has.

 

"So?"

"Uh.. What?" Dean closes the door behind Cas and faces Ellen, trying not to sound weird. She doesn't know. Don't go red. Keep your voice level, idiot.

"Where's my cranberry sauce?"

"Oh.."

He glances at Cas who smiles and walks on into the kitchen without being any help.

"They were uh out." Dean finishes lamely, trying to hide the stupid grin but was pretty sure he failed because Ellen folds her arms and raises an eyebrow.

Rubbing his neck, Dean slid past her.

Ellen bosses the two newest angelic additions with a maternal finesse that was nothing but impressive. She had Balthazar whisking gravy and Gabriel juggling empty cups on his way to the freezer for ice while Sam looks on with open admiration. Awesome.

Cas takes the plates out of his hands to help set the table and says, "Dean, I would like to say the prayer."

"Huh? You wanna pray?"

He seems only half certain but nods and says, "I've researched your holiday and know many families pray over their food. I would like to."

It's a little weird considering all Cas told him about an absent father but who was he to tell him no.

"Sure. If you want."

When everyone takes their seat, Castiel asks to pray and despite everyone's surprise and a few muttered comments from his brothers, Dean shrugs and motions for him to go on.

Bowing his head, Cas begins.

"Father, if you are listening... Know that we are gathered under one roof on this day in love and joy."

When Cas takes his hand under the table without pausing or looking up, Dean keeps his eyes open to watch him. "And even if you are not, I am thankful for this home and this family. New, old and departed. "

Cas is silent for almost a minute before Ellen finishes. "Amen."

Squeezing his hand, Dean leans close and asks, "You ok?"

Castiel nods, smiles and rubs thumb over Dean's. "More than I thought possible."

They eat and laugh, the addition of Cas' brothers making it one of the most lively Thanksgivings in Harvelle history. The food tastes different for Dean, like it's too much for his tastebuds, but he pushes past it because he flat refuses to live however the fuck long an angel can live without pie. Gabriel devours about half the yams by himself alone and Balthazar talks more than eats.

"So Dean, when are you taking me flying?" Sam asks innocently around a mouthful of roll.

"How about never?"

"Oh come on! Cas told me he used to take you-"

"Cas?!" Dean widens his eyes in accusation at him.

"I did take you." Cas shrugs and smiles ducking his head as if he was remembering a particularly hot adolescent adventure of theirs.

"I can take you, kiddo," Gabriel says around licking a stray marshmallow off his thumb.

Dean turns from blushing at Cas to say seriously, "That's not happening."

"Deeean," Sam whines. "You're basically like a superhero now. The least you can do it let me-"

"Well I wanna fly too!" Jo pipes up.

"No!" Ellen and Dean shout at the same time.

And before he knows it, it's after dinner and Dean's in the backyard nervously shifting from foot to foot. Why had he agreed to this? Oh that's right because Sam shamelessly pleaded and he was an idiot for giving in. It'd just be a quick up in the air then back firmly on the ground. That's all. Easy.

When Balthazar chivalrously offers to take an enthusiastic Jo, Ellen puts her fists on her hips and says, "Joanna Beth, keep your butt on the ground or it's never leaving your room again! And you.. touch her, blondie and I clip your damn wings!"

Balthazar actually blanches and throws Jo an apologetic face. "I am sorry my darling but I'm not willing to risk a confrontation with your lovely mother hen."

Sam practically bounces in his converse. "So? Can we go now?"

He never carried anyone before and even getting himself in the air was hard sometimes. Dean was just about ready to give him a raincheck and vote for another slice of pie instead. This was stupid. They had plenty of time to try this when he felt more confident. "Look, Sammy, this probably isn't a-"

"I got this, newbie." Gabriel steps forward.

"Dude, lay a finger on my-"

Gabriel lunges behind Sam, hooks an arm around his middle and shoots into the air.

"Ahhhh!" Sam screams at first then makes the boyish squeals Dean did when he was young. "Wooohoooo!"

Dean is after them in an instant though he can't even come close to keeping up. Heart sinking, he watches Gabriel toss his brother upwards until he's balancing Sam's feet on the palms of his hands then flies forward pushing through the air making it look like Sam is surfing or something. It makes his stomach flip with dread.

"Ha! Deeean!" Sam yells, the grin evident even from the growing distance.

"Gabriel! So help me god!"

Cas catches his shoulder and Dean notices him and the fact that they're hundreds of feet up for the first time.

"Gabriel will not allow him to be hurt."

"Cas-"

"Dean, trust me."

He frowns and stares after them, hovering in the air until Cas grabs his chin and kisses him. He knows it's a distraction but after a few seconds of clever manipulation, it's working.

Cas lets go with a pop of their lips and takes off. Dean grins and can't help following. He's getting down how to do that sudden curve he does and is eager to try it out. Cas is fast and clever but Dean's learning his tricks. When he sees the tell of his left wing arching up in the beginnings of an abrupt turn, Dean flaps his down hard, getting a burst of speed and knocks into Cas' side before he can complete it. Dean latches onto him, twisting their legs together and Cas drops like a stone, down, down, finally landing with a deep grunt when they hit the ground.

After a second to shake his head, Dean gets up on all fours above him and smiles down at him. He groans and slowly opens his eyes to a cocky Dean. It's the first time he won their game of chase.

"Sorry. Guess I don't know my own strength."

He does not look a bit sorry.

Sitting up on his elbows, Cas says tersely, "I am not sure I should forgive you so easily."

Dean grins and kisses his jaw. "C'mon... you know you wanna."

"No," He averts his eyes firmly to the evening sky and slow drifting clouds.

Dean cups the back of his head and nuzzles into his neck, nipping over that spot. Castiel makes a small noise in the back of his throat before he can catch it.

"Getting warmer? Isn't it in your angel dna to forgive?" He kisses his stubbly cheek. "Turn the other cheek and all that."

Cas darts his eyes to Dean's then resolutely back up again.

"I have very unforgiving dna."

Dean sinks downs all at once to catch his lips in a needy, teasing full body kiss that has him holding Cas' face and Cas bringing his arms up to wrap around Dean's back.

When he finally pulls back, Cas allows. "Perhaps I could eventually find my way to forgiving you…"

Dean sits up with satisfaction. "See, you're just a sucker for the Winchester Charm."

"Undisputedly."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well you've reached the end of my little story, darling readers. Thank you for showing love for this. Every hit, kudo and comment really touches me. Your words affect me, as I hope mine might have affected you. 
> 
> Upcoming works: In the future, I might have a little companion piece with Cas' POV from Dean's childhood. I'm also starting a Witch AU and going to work more on my genderswap (Skirts and Ties). Please stay tuned and hope to see you back. 
> 
> *Eskimo Kisses*


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